


Happiness and Desire

by Anchanee



Series: Serve your Happiness and Obey your Heart's Desires [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Bilbo, Bottom Thorin, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Humility, Hurt/Comfort, Khuzdul as native tongue, Manipulation, Multi, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Sexual Content, Slash, Snogging, Top Bilbo, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchanee/pseuds/Anchanee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Thorin's life in the Blue Mountains after the events of 'Serve your Happiness' and 'Obey your Heart's Desires'. They have been forced together in an arranged marriage and are now trying to make the best of it. It won't be easy but at least now they have managed to overcome their own insecurities and are finally free to admit of how very much they love each other. There will be tears and anger, troubles and tribulations but there will also be desire and a happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coping Techniques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hobbit was preparing food whenever he wasn't at his husband's side. Even when there were simply too many dishes for a single dwarf, Thorin never suggested that Bilbo should stop cooking. More often than not, the dwarf simply shared these meals with whatever family member or guest visited him that day. Their prince was not the only one who had suffered scars from his abduction. Obviously Shirefolk dealt with traumatic experiences through cooking and baking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Redone is back on board so this is going to be great. At least I hope so. Welcome back to all who have waited so very patiently for me to continue this story. I have finished 17 Chapters during NaNoWriMo and I'm not at the end of this story, not by far! So have some tea and a cookie and enjoy :).

"The representatives of the Merchants’ Guild requested a meeting right after your arrival three weeks ago, and four more times since. Shall I inform them that you are busy?" The words of the Master of Traditions were respectful yet slightly disapproving.

"Hm." With that non-committal noise, Bilbo turned away from the stove and offered a bunch of carrots and a knife. "Slice these, please."

With a resigned sigh, Master Kiron took the vegetables and started chopping. Since prince Thorin and his consort's return, the hobbit had barely left his kitchen. The occasions when he left his husband's side were even rarer. That their prince was attending a meeting with his father gave the Master of Traditions the even less frequent chance to talk to their consort alone.

The hobbit was preparing food whenever he wasn't at his husband's side. Even when there were simply too many dishes for a single dwarf, Thorin never suggested that Bilbo should stop cooking. More often than not, the dwarf simply shared these meals with whatever family member or guest visited him that day. Their prince was not the only one who had suffered scars from his abduction. Obviously Shirefolk dealt with traumatic experiences through cooking and baking.

Having learned that Bilbo was much more inclined to listen to him when he helped with said cooking, the Master of Traditions started to deftly wield the knife. Still, even after several minutes of patient waiting, he did not receive a reaction to his initial statement.

The royal consort ignoring an official request from a guild he held the budget for was unusual, if not downright rude. Determined to support him, Kiron had to make him understand that it was a problem. "Your royal high…"

"Please, I have told you countless times to call me Bilbo when we're amongst ourselves. I am not of royal blood, so to address me as such is ill fitting. Not to mention that there is no room for titles in my kitchen."

"As you wish, Master Baggins, but please let's concentrate on the matter at hand. You can't ignore the Merchants’ Guild. They are too important for our economy."

Cleaning his fingers, Bilbo turned around to look at the dwarf who looked at him pleadingly. Master Kiron had proven a valuable ally helping Bilbo find his way into his role as the royal consort. But still, as a hobbit he took the liberty of pretending ignorance when the dwarf's advice didn't suit him. Even his sister-in-law had suggested as much. Being slightly unpredictable would help him in the long run. Also it would keep the councillors on their toes. They still were a little wary around their hobbit who had mutilated Master Lothur after the dwarf's challenge at the Yuletide Ball last year. The decision to ignore the guild's request, however, had not been made on a whim.

"Master Kiron," Bilbo sighed after a moment, "do you know how often I have asked for the journals of the Merchants’ Guild in the last six months? Journals that would enlighten me on the use of the royal funds I am supposed to provide. Five times! Once each month while I was in the Shire, and once after our return. And do you know how often the request was heeded? Not once!" Anger clouded the hobbit's face. He did not like to remember the first few days after his and Thorin's return to the Blue Mountains. They were still working through the issues caused by Thorin's abduction and the torment he had suffered in the hands of the slave-traders. Sadly, they had barely made any progress. Mostly, because his beloved, stubborn dwarf was not willing to admit that weeks of torture could have any lasting effect on him.

Thorin had not managed to sleep through a single night since they had returned to Ered Luin. He woke twice, sometimes three times each night, with a desperate cry on his lips, shivering anxiously in his hobbit's arms. He had stopped fighting his way out of Bilbo's embrace at the beginning of this week and both considered that an improvement. Still, holding his trembling husband, even though Thorin tried very hard to conceal his distress, broke Bilbo's heart night after night. At least he was now able to comfort his dwarf enough for him to go back to sleep within the hour. Bilbo sometimes lay awake long afterwards, without finding any rest. It was draining and slowly the hobbit was reaching the end of his tether. The worst of it all was that Thorin never said a word, downright ignored Bilbo's gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) prodding to talk about what had happened. The hobbit simply did not know how to get his husband to accept his help.

Forcing himself to concentrate on the problem at hand, Bilbo shook his head and continued his rant. "I have waited six months, six months for them to send me their books or at least a brief overview. Now it is their time to wait! We have to prepare our fields for the winter. The harvest was good. And with the new irrigation system in place, it could increase still. I can't be in two places at once. First I have to tend to the fields. Then I will talk to the representatives of the Merchants’ Guild. If, and you can relay that as an order of the royal consort, if they are ready to offer their books for inspection!"

Sighing inwardly, Master Kiron nodded and offered the sliced carrots, which were scoped up immediately and added to the other ingredients in the big pan that bubbled happily on the stove. He knew that he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Yet for now there was no other option than to obey the hobbit's command, mostly because it was entirely reasonable. Rising from the kitchen table he bowed deeply. "I will convey your message, Master Baggins."

Noticing the dwarf's defeated attitude, Bilbo approached him and put a comforting hand on his arm. "But you have little hope that they will follow my demand."

Feeling like he was letting the royal consort down, Kiron lowered his eyes in shame and mumbled an apology. Yet Bilbo would have none of that. "I know that I am putting you into a difficult position, and I am really sorry about that. I have the highest respect for your work and I am incredibly grateful for your support. Please don't think of this as me trying to sabotage either you or your work. But in the end I have to prove that I can hold my ground. I simply cannot allow these dwarves to walk all over me. I made the terms of them receiving royal funding clear right from the beginning. Not to meet these demands was their decision."

"I am aware of that, Master Baggins. It seems that we will have to find another way. We simply can't afford the Merchants’ Guild to go bankrupt." On that note, the Master of Traditions left to deliver his message.

 

Bilbo rubbed his tired eyes before turning around to finish the preparations for the meat-pie for Thorin's lunch. His head felt full enough to burst. He had not had a decent night's sleep in what felt like forever. To deal with these scheming merchants now was out of the question. He could not do so until he had his wits together again. Sadly, he did not even have the slightest idea when that would be. When the pie was in the oven, Bilbo made sure that there were only embers left so that the pie would bake but not burn, and went to change for fieldwork. Thorin had left to see to his duties so he should do the same. The hobbit had not cut his hair for close to a year now, so he had to gather his copper locks and tame them with a string of leather. Long hair was annoying at times, but Thorin loved it so very much that Bilbo couldn't bring himself to shorten it to a more sensible length. Making sure one last time that the pie would be perfect by the time his husband returned from the council session with his father (the prince had a lot of catching up to do after their summer in the Shire) the hobbit left for the fields.

~ ♥ ~

Just like last year, many females had volunteered to help with the harvest. Mostly those with dwarflings old enough to do some work had decided to lend a helping hand with preparing the fields for winter. Especially since Bilbo had insisted that sunshine and fresh air was very important for growing children. Every dwarf who had visited the Shire had been able to tell how happy and healthy fauntlings were. So the dwarven mothers had adapted their protective attitude and allowed their children to leave the mountain more often. To have their dwarflings unsupervised, however, was still unthinkable.

Every child now received a diet of non-poisonous grain, meat and vegetables aplenty. They were positively glowing when running wild around the fields. Their happiness might also stem from the fact that they were no longer sheltered to the point of suffocation, but treated as valuable members of society by being given small tasks to fulfil. That more often than not hay-fights broke out where two or more kids ended buried … well. Their parents feigned ignorance when the fights started and made the young ones pick up after themselves once they were over.

When Bilbo arrived at the hillside, he noticed guards who kept a close eye on the surroundings. After his return from the Shire, Dís had shared how much had changed. Women and children tending to the fields had been the most important difference, but surely not the only one. Yet, both the princess and her father had insisted on armed guards to keep them safe. Bilbo couldn't help but pity those who stood next to the heaps of natural fertilizers, which the farmers were currently distributing on the fields. Maybe he should cook up some mint salve so that they could get some reprieve from the stench.

When the hobbit had mentioned that pieces of horse dung were exceptional fertilizers for the first time, many dwarves had laughed at him. At least until they had realized that Bilbo was dead serious. After a lengthy explanation, they had agreed to collect the droppings from the stables and now barely battered an eyelash when working them into the soil. By the time they were finished, the new irrigation system should be up as well, so that there would be enough water for the manure to mix with the soil before the frost started.

There would be no winter-rye this season since the hobbit didn't want to leech the earth. The Shire now traded willingly with 'Master Baggins' dwarrows', so they were not short on food. They could not throw a feast every other week, but it would be enough to keep everybody satisfied and healthy until next year's harvest.

While watching the miners installing the irrigation lines to distribute water more efficiently, the hobbit made plans for the future. Two years from now he would introduce a rotation of corn and vegetables and leaving one third of the fields fallow. By then Bilbo hoped that the crop would have doubled since the soil was so well cared for. He was confident that with extensive vegetable patches and berry-plants, they would be able to grow enough food.

There were several hunters in the mountains because dwarves preferred meat over vegetables. Still, with a well-balanced diet he could keep his people well cared for.

Maybe he should consider sheep or goats. However, he did not know the first thing about livestock breeding. There also was the possibility of planting orchards in the inner valleys. Some of them got a lot of light and the earth felt good to Bilbo.

Groaning, the hobbit rubbed his eyes again to stop his erratic thoughts. His dwarves had a hard time with farming as it was. He did not want to overtax them. They were no hobbits after all. Seeing to all things that grew did not come naturally to them. Tending to Yavanna's offerings was considered hard work. Very few dwarves were able to find joy in it and even less were willing to take up these responsibilities over more traditional jobs. The women surely were a big help, but their support only went so far. Tending to their families would always be their first priority, as it should be. Still, that left him short on helping hands. Too short to make all of his plans come true.

 

When two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, Bilbo smiled and leaned into the soothing embrace. Thorin's soft beard tickled his neck when the dwarf placed a tender kiss on his skin. "What are you thinking about, beloved?"

Oh yes, Thorin's way of addressing him had changed since their revealing conversation two weeks ago. Sometimes Bilbo got the impression that his husband overused these endearments. It was as if he was afraid that Bilbo's feelings would change the moment the dwarf slacked in his reassurance that he felt the same. All together Thorin was a lot clingier after his suffering. He avoided any and all attempts to talk about it and forced himself to stay away from Bilbo, whenever the hobbit addressed cautiously what had happened. He had tried yesterday over dinner, and now Thorin was spending hours with his father talking politics. Still the hobbit was aware that his dwarf was tense until he could wrap himself around him once again. Bilbo could practically feel most of the strain bleeding out of his husband as soon as they were together again.

It would do no good to try and talk about it now. So he simply turned in his husband's embrace and rose to his toes to kiss him on the tip of his nose. Deciding that it would be best to stay with safer topics, Bilbo admitted, "About how I would have to turn half our dwarves into hobbits if I wanted to implement all the ideas I have for feeding our people."

Looking from Bilbo to the fields and back to his husband the prince appeared concerned all of a sudden. "Don't you think that our fields will produce enough to sustain us?" Why did the worries never end? All Thorin wanted were a few hours of peace and good news now and then. But after what his father had shared with him, he doubted that that would happen anytime soon. At least Bilbo was still by his side … for now.

When his lover hugged him tight and caressed his back soothingly, Thorin couldn't help but sag a little into the comforting embrace. He was so very tired and the idea of seeing his people starve once again only added to his nightmares. Words could never tell and prayers to Mahal never be enough to show his gratitude for the blessing of having this child of Yavanna by his side. The godly pair had shown benevolence beyond compare in having Bilbo's and his fates entwine. Especially when the hobbit assured him, "We will have enough food. No dwarf will ever go hungry again. Not on my watch. All I was thinking about were ways to keep up our harvest without leeching the soil. But this will be a problem for the year after the next. Right now we can enjoy a rich crop and build up our reserves."

Suddenly remembering the meat-pie, Bilbo frowned at Thorin, while still keeping a firm grip when he felt his husband stiffen. "What are you doing here anyway? Not that I am not happy to see you, my love. But I thought you had a council session to attend to. I put a meat-pie into the oven so that you could have it for lunch."

Forcing a smile, rubbing his bearded chin against Bilbo until his hobbit giggled, Thorin evaded the question. He knew that his beloved wanted him to talk about what had happened, but all he needed was to forget. So he reasoned, "I am skipping the council session. During my time in the Shire, I have been taught that preparing the fields for the winter is very important. So I came to lend a helping hand to the royal consort, like so many others."

Trying to mirror his husband's easy attitude, Bilbo grinned. "And skip yet another meeting with representatives of the Merchants’ Guild where you would get nothing but an ear full about how stubborn and unreasonable your husband is." 'Stay with easy topics,' Bilbo thought to himself. Thorin was so very good at keeping up the pretence that everything was alright, at least outside of their chambers. The hobbit knew that his dwarf could never allow himself to appear weak in front of his people. So he supported him to the best of his abilities.

After hugging his precious hobbit tight for another moment, drawing strength from their contact, Thorin stepped back and started to gather his hair and bind it back so it would not interfere with fieldwork. "I can understand your position. Yet I don't feel up to pretending indifference while listening to complaints about your behaviour, especially not when every dwarf in attendance knows that your requests are entirely reasonable. The Merchants are the stubborn ones."

Gathering one of Thorin's shorter braids and securing it as well, Bilbo took the chance to caress his husband's cheeks. Smiling up at him in earnest, grateful for the support, he kissed his dwarf lovingly before taking his hand. "In that case, I'm happy to have you here. Now come on. Let's see how we can help."

~ ♥ ~

Since Bilbo was both small of stature and skilled in tending the fields, he chose the top terrace to work on. Thorin had helped him to carry the fertilizer and now they worked on spreading it. The hobbit could see a few dwarflings trampling straw into the earth. That was not exactly the right way to protect the soil, but since they had so much fun, the hobbit couldn't bring himself to reprimand them. The sun was shining, the wind was soft and the earth under his feet was healthy and well cared for. Slowly Bilbo felt himself relax and enjoy his time out in the open. He looked up when he noticed that the joyous laughter from the little ones had stopped.

"Thorin!" Swallowing around a knot in his throat, Bilbo called out. "Could you get us more fertilizer, please?"

Looking up, the dwarf only now spotted the three dwarflings that had tried to sneak up on him from behind. Their sheepish grins, and the straw that hit the ground behind them, betrayed their mischievous plan. The dwarf had seen this trick of stuffing straw down someone's back. It itched and the funny looks on the faces of the victim almost always made the culprit laugh. He suspected some kind of dare between the little ones for one of them to be bold enough to prank their prince. That or the little ones simply didn't care about his position. He wouldn't put it past them. At their age almost anything was forgiven if they smiled sweetly and appeared sufficiently contrite. Tousling their hair, Thorin passed them with a smile and went to collect more horse dumping.

With a shaky exhalation, Bilbo leaned on his rake. All the ways this could have gone spectacularly wrong played out in is mind. Since Gentian, Thorin had not liked for someone to come up to him from behind, without that person announcing him- or herself in advance. After the abduction, however, he had become downright paranoid. He almost always stood with his back to a wall or to Bilbo when the hobbit was available. The few times someone had approached him; he had either flinched or worse. Dwalin had even been attacked on one occasion. The warrior had brushed it off as Thorin keeping his guard up, even complimented his prince for his vigilance; but the look he had traded with Bilbo afterwards had betrayed his concern. Now dwarflings had tried the same. Bilbo was not sure that Thorin would have been fast enough to stay his hand when being surprised that way. Not sure at all.

 

Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath once he was far enough away from the little pranksters. He had been able to hold on to his control with an iron grip, not betraying how much being sneaked up on had rattled him. He knew that Bilbo was worried and, as always, tried his very best to keep his concerns to himself. That this had worked out quite poorly for him in the past did not cross his mind. All he wanted was to be able to keep his face in front of his partner. Because in the end Bilbo's opinion, however bad it might be at the moment, was all that mattered. He would regain his husband's respect by proving himself determined and able to cope with what he had allowed to happen to himself. When he returned he pointedly ignored that Bilbo's bag of fertilizer still was half full.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers:  
> When Bilbo topped off his glass a third time, Thorin asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Do you want to get me drunk, so you can have your wicked way with me?"  
> The uncharacteristically solemn, "If that's what it takes," made Thorin look up. He wanted to brush it off as a reflection of the moonlight, but deep down he knew that Bilbo was close to tears again.


	2. An Expected Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarven prince was exhausted, desperate for a single night of regenerative rest. Still, every time he closed his eyes, images of these slavers rose in his mind. Without Bilbo he had no chance to push them back and find at least a few hours of peace. Still, Thorin would gladly sacrifice his own rest if it allowed Bilbo to find some much needed sleep, there really was no question about it for him. Midnight came and went and although his eyes felt heavy, he knew what a useless attempt it would be to go to bed.

Another week of barely any sleep and horrible nightmares had passed. Aware that he could not avoid this any longer, Bilbo had agreed to attend the next council session. He had a pretty good idea what accusations most accusations he was about to face. Being friends with Nori always paid off. Still he was determined to hold his ground. Every single guild he had worked with had considered his demands reasonable and complied. Even the representatives of the Miners’ Guild had been open and supportive, because although mining was a topic he had known close to nothing about, the hobbit had made an effort to educate himself on their subject. Bilbo suspected Master Andvari to be the reason for that -- making an effort seemed to go a long way with this particular dwarf.

After a rich dinner -- roasted deer, Thorin's favourite, and a sponge cake with strawberries and cream -- the hobbit decided that his jittery nerves would benefit from a bath. Since Thorin still had work to do, Bilbo sank into the steaming tub alone, groaning when the hot water soothed his aching muscles. Tiredly he fumbled for his soap but could not reach it. When he turned around, irritated with himself, he accidentally brushed off the flacon with lavender oil Thorin had given him a year ago as a moving in present. It was not before he pressed his hands to his mouth to stifle an upcoming sob, looking at the shimmering shards on the ground, that Bilbo noticed the tears streaming down his face.

Seeing this present broken, he really had reached the end of his strength and dissolved into tears. His husband's hasty approach made Bilbo sink into the bath and no matter how hard he tried to sound normal, his voice was clogged when he warned, "Please, stay out, Thorin. I just … I just broke one of my bathing oils. No harm done." The hobbit exhaled shakily when he heard the heavy footsteps retreat. He could not stop his sobs, but at least he could keep them to himself, so as to not burden Thorin further. It hurt, everything hurt and Bilbo did not know how to deal with it any longer.

 

His dwarf, however, had learned stealth in his time in the Shire. Taking off his boots, Thorin sneaked to the bathroom door to see if his hobbit really was alright. He surely hadn't sounded like it. Bilbo's muffled sobs made him freeze in the doorway. For the last week he had not woken his husband more than twice a night, for the last two nights only once. He had considered that progress. Yet now his beloved sat in their tub, clearly unhappy. Of course Thorin had noticed the dark circles under Bilbo's eyes; even more than under his own. During their wandering years, he had become familiar with sleep deprivation and fatigue. He had worked very hard to keep his people afloat and sometimes four hours per night had been all he could manage. He had learned to deal. But his hobbit was not used to such hardships, nor should he be. His precious husband needed a few decent nights’ rest and regrettably Thorin knew but one way to ensure that.

When the sobs were replaced with soft snores, the dwarf made his way to the consort's chambers and turned down the bed covers. Then he carefully lifted his beloved out of the tub and carried him to bed. Caressing his husband's forehead when the hobbit started to toss, he covered Bilbo with linen and furs so he would not freeze, once he had calmed again. Then he returned to his chambers. He picked up a tome to entertain himself in front of the fireplace, but in the end he spent more time looking into the flames than at the pages.

The dwarven prince was exhausted, desperate for a single night of regenerative rest. Still, every time he closed his eyes, images of these slavers rose in his mind. Without Bilbo he had no chance to push them back and find at least a few hours of peace. Still, Thorin would gladly sacrifice his own rest if it allowed Bilbo to find some much needed sleep, there really was no question about it for him. Midnight came and went and although his eyes felt heavy, he knew what a useless attempt it would be to go to bed.

An anxious cry brought him out of a light doze and in a heartbeat he flew through their bathroom. He found his hobbit upright in bed, eyes red with unshed tears. "Thorin? What are you doing there? What …?" In an attempt to soothe him, the dwarf approached the bed and reached for his beloved's hands to rub his wrists calmingly. "Hush, my love. Everything is alright. Just go back to sleep."

"What about you?"

Smiling lovingly, Thorin kissed Bilbo's forehead. "I just wanted to finish a few papers. I was already on my way to bed." He leaned into the caress when his hobbit touched his cheek and kissed the small palm, before promising, "I'll be with you in a few moments. Just go back to sleep."

When the hobbit relaxed into the soft bedding again, Thorin tiptoed back to the bathroom, but froze when Bilbo's soft words reached him through the darkness. "I know that we have problems, Thorin, but please stop lying to me. That hurts."

Defeated, the dwarven prince leaned against the doorframe. No, deep down he had always known that Bilbo was aware of his weaknesses and his futile struggles to overcome it. He had tried to pretend that he was alright now that his wounds were healed. But obviously he had failed. "Just go back to sleep," the dwarf pleaded, not ready to face reality right now. "You need it." And then he returned to his room.

~ ♥ ~

Thorin had hoped for Bilbo to follow his advice, but his hope proved vain when soft words pulled him out of his musings. "This is no solution, you know. You hiding from me, like you do from the rest of the world."

"I just wanted to give you the chance to get a decent night's rest," the dwarf defended himself, but his husband shook his head.

"I slept five hours straight, more than any other night for the past month. Do I look well rested to you?" The hobbit glared at him, his face still tired and worn.

"You need more time."

"No, Thorin, I need you."

The prince could not quash the warm feeling that spread through him at these words, nor did he want to. When Bilbo held out his hand, he reached for it without thinking. Only now did he notice that his hobbit was fully dressed. He got no chance to ask about it when Bilbo pushed their favourite quilt into Thorin's arms and picked up their picnic basket and a beautiful silver lantern. The Jewellers’ Guild had made that particular piece for him when he had shared his concerns about his books, since the only light in his rooms came from candles.

He had received a twin-set of lanterns at the beginning of last week. Their frames were delicately woven around glass plates and Bilbo had baked the jewellers a huge cake in gratitude. Now carrying the lamp, Bilbo urged his husband to follow him through the quiet corridors of the royal wing. Thorin needed but a few moments to realize where they were going. "Bilbo, the smial is not ready yet. Fíli and Kíli really wanted it to be a surprise."

"I'm not interested in the smial," Bilbo replied softly. "Watch where you're going. There is a lot of debris lying around."

Making their way through half-finished corridors, carefully avoiding wooden planks with nails, the pair finally reached the side of the mountain where an outlet was artfully closed with a big, round plank. Pulling it back a notch, the pair slipped through and was standing on the vast, open mountain terrace. With the moon high in the sky, Thorin could see the extent of his husband’s future garden. A few wild flowers emerged from the mountainside. The general area was uneven and crude and, save for grass, barely anything grew there. Still, he could already see this becoming a beautiful garden under his hobbit's loving care. When he turned towards Bilbo to share that thought, he found his husband sitting on a halved tree trunk that had been skilfully transformed into a bench.

At Thorin's surprised gaze, the hobbit smiled tiredly. "Usually I only come here when nobody is working. Apparently someone saw me anyway. This bench appeared out of the blue only yesterday." At his impatient gesture with the blanket, his dwarf finally came over and sat down. Instead of claiming a place on the bench, Thorin decided on a patch of soft grass at his hobbit's feet. Bilbo wanted to protest, to demand that his husband sit by his side, yet something kept him quiet. They had to talk, something that was long overdue. Maybe it would be easier for Thorin to open up if he didn’t have to look at him.

With a defeated sigh, Bilbo pulled him closer and carefully wrapped their quilt around them. Immediately Thorin snuggled in the embrace, wrapping a hand around the hobbit's shank to anchor himself.

The innocent gesture brought back memories. His dwarf had touched him exactly like this the first time Bilbo had caught him pleasuring himself. Thorin had been so very ashamed that night. He had needed a lot of gentle coaxing to finally open up and realise that there was nothing to be ashamed of. They had come such a long way since. Now Thorin mostly accepted his body's demands; or so Bilbo had thought. The way his husband seemed determined to avoid every attempt to accept help proved him wrong.

With a steeling breath he pulled a bottle and two glasses from his basket and filled them to the brim. Offering one to Thorin, he drank the other in one go and breathed through the familiar burning. His dwarf coughed, remarking with surprise, "I remember this taste. This is the liquor you offered me the night I attacked you."

"Uncle Isembold gave it to me as a wedding present. He said it was for the times when dwarvish liquor simply did not cut it. He brews it himself, you know."

"That explains much," Thorin snickered quietly, having accepted a refill. At the big banquet in the thain's house in early summer, Bifur and Bofur had boldly accepted an invitation to a drinking game from Bilbo's oldest uncle. It was safe to say that the hobbit had won fair and square. The cousins had made them all swear not to talk about it ever again.

When Bilbo topped off his glass a third time, Thorin asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Do you want to get me drunk, so you can have your wicked way with me?"

The uncharacteristically solemn, "If that's what it takes," made Thorin look up. He wanted to brush it off as a reflection of the moonlight, but deep down he knew that Bilbo was close to tears again. That realization made his heart constrict painfully. Even more so when Bilbo whispered, "We have to talk about this, Thorin. We can't go on the way things are."

"Don't, please!" The dwarf begged hoarsely, burying his hands in his hair, pulling it painfully.  "I'm trying to forget. You have to believe me. I'm working on becoming strong again, I swear. You just have to give me more time. Please, Bilbo. Just a little more time and I will return to being a husband you can be proud of." Hiding his face, so that his hobbit would not notice his desperate tears, he breathed quietly, "Just don't leave me."

"Oh, Thorin," Bilbo exhaled shakily. He could barely hold himself together when he leaned down to ease his husband’s fingers from his hair before hugging him tightly. The dwarf reached for his arms, pulled them as close as possible until the earth and lavender scent surrounded him from all sides.

After a little while, the hobbit freed his hand and turned his palm up in Thorin's embrace, so that the binding rune he had chosen as a wedding present now hovered before his husband's very eyes. Quietly he wanted to know, "How could I get rid of this?"

Taking a steeling breath, Thorin shook his head. "You can't. It's permanent."

"Exactly," Bilbo whispered into his hear. "This is a visible representation of what is in my heart. You and me, together, and nothing will ever change that. I would rather die than leave you. I am sorry, so very sorry that I was too late. That I could not stop these vile humans from torturing you. I know I failed, but please stop punishing me by shutting me out. I want to help, but you have to let me!"

"You didn't fail me!" Thorin insisted, kissing the rune, pressing it to his forehead. "You found me. You saved me, just like I knew you would!"

"Then why don't you talk to me any longer? Why do you flee every time I try to bring up what has happened?"

Trying to fight his way up, something that was undermined by Bilbo holding him tight, Thorin gave up after a few moments and closed his eyes. It was not as if he really wanted to leave his beloved’s embrace. Not able to look at the one he needed more than life itself, he whispered, "And why would you want that? I thought I was a warrior but they caught me in the woods with ease. Like I had no more wit about me than a mindless beast. They chained me, punished me, forced me to eat and drink from the hands of others as if I were nothing but a dog! What would you ever want to have to do with someone who has been brought so low? They took everything from me: my dignity and my pride, until I longed for the few blessed moments when I was unconscious, because then I would see you in my dreams."

Finally understanding, Bilbo held on to his husband when admitting. "You are right, you know? They did treat you like a dog. Worse even, since they could not get you to perform even one simple trick."

When Thorin hung his head again, Bilbo reached for his face and gently encouraged him to turn around so that they could look at each other. "What do you remember about the day of your rescue?"

"That I thought you were a dream. That I told you that I loved you."

"Anything else?"

When Thorin shook his head, the hobbit smiled, honest to the gods smiled, because he had finally found the one way to set his warrior's mind at ease again: the truth. "I guess that explains how you can be so spectacularly wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Caressing his husband's tired face lovingly, Bilbo kissed him and started to explain. "First of all, they did not 'catch' you in the woods. They ambushed you! It was a coordinated attack. Without any armour or weapons beyond your hunting bow you really didn't stand a chance. That was no fair fight, otherwise you would have eradicated them and we both know it!

"Secondly, they did not even feed you. You were too stubborn for your own good. All you received from the slavers was water. The other slaves were the ones who shared their rations with you, since in an act of bravery, you managed to free some of them before the caravan even reached the town.

"And thirdly, beloved, they may have taken a lot from you, but they could not take your pride!"

Avoiding his husband's eyes that shone like stars, Thorin mumbled, "How can you be so sure?"

Soothing his beloved with gentle gestures, Bilbo whispered into his hair, "Because the one trick they failed to make you perform was you kneeling for them."

"But I did kneel for them," his dwarf contradicted him stricken. "I remember that. In the end I gave in."

"You did, but for me. Never for them."

"For you?"

Nimble fingers buried in Thorin's raven hair and in the language of his forefathers, Bilbo repeated the words that had saved them a month ago, _> On our wedding day, you swore to serve and obey me. Now obey and kneel and this will be over.<_ "They may have taken a lot, beloved, but a descendant of Durin proved too strong for them to break."

Inhaling wetly, Thorin repeated, just to be on the safe side. "I never kneeled for them? I never gave in?"

"No," Bilbo confirmed, combing through his husband's hair. "I know they starved you. I saw them beat you. But the only flaw they complained about when selling you was that you were too stubborn to be tamed."

Wrapping his arms around his hobbit's waist, Thorin buried his face in the soft belly and was finally able to weep. Horrible, inhuman things had been done to him. But he had been strong enough not to break. If he had managed then, he could deal with the aftermath. His father needed a son, his sister a brother and his nephews required an uncle to rely on. With his pride intact he could be that person. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

Once he had calmed, he wanted to know, "How many were there?" His memories of the time with the humans was somewhat clouded. Still, he needed to be clear about that detail. "Three, right?" confirmed his recollection of the events.

In an uncharacteristically vicious tone, Bilbo elaborated, "Yes, and I took extraordinary pleasure in preparing each and every one of them for punishment!"

Feeling drained but somehow lighter than before, the prince enquired, "How so?"

Looking over the terrace, gazing at the stars, the hobbit admitted, "When we found them, I wanted to kill them with my own blade. I saw them torturing you, whipping you and when I finally had them on their knees, snivelling for their worthless lives, all I wanted was to cut their throats and be done with it. But a friend kept me from it. Told me that that was not me. That I ought to find a punishment that enabled me to meet my own eyes in the mirror the next day. So I took everything from them and gave it to their slaves. All they were allowed to keep were the clothes on their bodies and the word 'Thief' carved into their foreheads. We made sure it would scar before we sent them on their way!"

When Thorin didn't say anything for a while, Bilbo felt his heart sink. "You are disappointed in me, aren't you? That I was not able to kill your tormentors."

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Thorin looked up at his hobbit and shook his head empathically. "I could never be disappointed of you, Bilbo. You are a good person, and no matter what life has thrown at you, you have remained pure and kind. The punishment you chose fitted the crime and I am honoured that you took it upon yourself to avenge me. But most of all, I am grateful for that friend who saved you from becoming a cold-blooded killer. That is not you, my love. And I am glad that the schemes of men could not taint you. Not matter what they did to me."

"But they did 'taint' me," the hobbit whispered. "I wanted to kill them. From the bottom of my heart. Because what they did to you was cruel!"

"They will suffer longer from what you did to them, than if you had cut their throats. You made the right choice."

Relieved to know that his dwarf felt suitably avenged, Bilbo asked after a while, "What are you thinking about?"

Finally giving in, Thorin closed his eyes and turned once again. When he sat with his back towards his partner, he reached for his glass and held it up. The hobbit's concoction burned in his throat, but it warmed him from within and would hopefully give him the courage to face what he had tried to bury for the last four weeks. Bilbo was right, as always. They could not go on like that. "I thought about the day when they captured me. I was trying to follow the trail of a deer, hoping that you would make stew with mushrooms and potatoes from it."

"I remember …" Bilbo recalled that day. "I had collected some the day before."

"Exactly," the dwarf nodded, nipping on his drink. "I remembered they looked delicious, so I wanted to find the perfect meat to go with them. But then …"

~ ♥ ~

The sun had already begun to colour the horizon when Thorin was finally finished. He had not cried again, but had stopped now and then to draw strength from his hobbit's embrace. Bilbo had mostly remained silent, supporting his husband with small gestures so as to not interrupt his speech. Both felt drained and dead tired, yet watching the sun come up was strangely cleansing. It was not alright; would not be for a very long time. But tonight, at the doorstep of their future home, they had made a new beginning. Together.

In the end that was all that mattered.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers Chapter 3:  
> Thorin couldn't help but flinch when his father pushed back his chair so that it nearly toppled over and left for the kitchen. The Durins exchanged worried looks, but in the end they all knew that it was the prince's task to talk to his father. After an encouraging nod from Bilbo, Thorin followed after Thrain. Upon entering the kitchen, he noticed that not even the sparse moonlight could hide his father's agitation. The king seemed to tremble all over from barely suppressed rage. His fists on the counter were clenched so tight, that his knuckles shone white.


	3. A Support System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo always made his presence known before he stepped up to Thorin to hug him from behind. When his husband neither flinched nor reacted in any other way, the hobbit wrapped his arms around him even more tightly and prodded gently, "Love, what are you thinking about?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you a Very, Merry Christmas!!! I hope that you have the chance to spend it with your family and loved ones and that you will receive LOADS of presents.

"No, you won't receive any money," Bilbo contradicted the raving, sputtering dwarf softly. He and Thorin had barely gotten in four hours of sleep before they had to prepare for the council meeting, and yet the hobbit felt more relaxed than the entire last month. He had been through a journey to and from the Shire, had lost his smial, made it through his husband's abduction, rescue and a quite cathartic night. So, this merchant would not frighten him, no matter how much he shouted.

"Do you see that, Your Majesty?" The dwarf changed tactics. "Now you can finally understand our complaints about the consort's unreasonable behaviour!"

Mumbling to himself, Thrain turned from the councillor to the royal consort. "Is it true that the Merchants’ Guild did not receive their funds for the last six months?"

"Yes, my king." Bilbo confirmed.

"Care to explain why?"

Tilting his head, Bilbo inquired, "Is it true that I have to attest what the royal funds are used for?"

"Of course, it is." Thrain confirmed. "We can't give away money at random. The royal family supports the guilds to help them grow and prosper. For the benefit of us all."

"That is the reason why the merchants have not received any money yet. They were unwilling to share their books, effectively keeping me from doing my job," the hobbit explained politely.

Growling lowly, the king returned his attention to the merchant. "Is that true, Master Blain?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the dwarf admitted. "But you have to understand. Our book-keeping system is tailored to our needs. You are already familiar with it. Wouldn't it be better to return the responsibility for our funds to you, my Lord?"

Looking first at the merchant, then at the hobbit, Thrain decided, "No! You have one month to get your books of the first quarter in order. After the royal consort has examined them and is satisfied with what he sees, you will receive a quarter of your funding." Confirming this verdict with a nod towards the scribe who was responsible for taking minutes, Thrain picked up his agenda. "Next is the renovation of the banquet hall. Master Dori of the House of Durin has the word."

 

When the major-domo started to talk about the extensive masonry work the great hall needed, Bilbo lowered his face as if fumbling with his buttons. "Thank you," he mumbled under his breath.

Keeping his eyes on Master Dori, Thrain smiled nearly imperceptibly and tilted his head. Family had to stick together and their hobbit had proven several times over that he was worth being called a member of the House of Durin. Returning his son from slave traders, punishing them viciously, had only been the last deed in a long list that showed that Bilbo was loyal to them and therefore deserved nothing less in return.

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo always made his presence known before he stepped up to Thorin to hug him from behind. When his husband neither flinched nor reacted in any other way, the hobbit wrapped his arms around him even more tightly and prodded gently, "Love, what are you thinking about?"

Continuing to look around Bilbo's kitchen, Thorin inquired, "Do you think you could throw together a quick dinner for my family and maybe Balin and Dwalin?"

Mentally going over their stocks, the hobbit nodded after a few moments. "Sure. I might have to improvise a little but no one would go hungry."

Thorin looked out of the window, his fingers twisting the beads of his braids. The bleak landscape of stone with very little green seemed to soothe him. The dwarf's fingers, which reached down to caress Bilbo's arms, felt clammy and cold. So his husband made an educated guess. "You want to talk to them as well? Share what has happened?"

Thorin shook his head insistently. "No, not in the slightest! But I think I have to. You should not be the only one to carry my burden."

Stepping around his dwarf, sliding up on the counter - something he would never, ever admit doing - Bilbo caressed Thorin's face and pulled him close. "You are not a burden, love. No matter what happens. Sure, we have good times and bad times and we are currently in a rough patch, but that's just how life is. Things will get better again. Can you remember what we had to deal with the same time last year?"

"We had to relocate the fields because of the poisonous earth."

The hobbit nodded. "It felt like such an insurmountable problem at the time. Yet we managed, together!"

Looking at his precious, strong-willed husband, the dwarf pondered for a moment. "You're saying that one year from now all this won't matter?"

"I don't know, Thorin," Bilbo admitted. "This is not leeched soil. Not something I know how to deal with. What happened was bad and I don't think there is an easy way to get over it. All I'm saying is, give it time! Give yourself time to cope and don't expect it to go away overnight. All I can do is try to do what I think will help you most. Not because I have to, but because I want to! I swore to serve your happiness and obey your heart's desires and I wouldn't change that for the world."

Sighing deeply, Thorin rested his forehead on Bilbo's shoulder and confessed quietly, "I'm so very, very tired."

Wrapping his arms around him, the hobbit whispered, "I know, my love."

After a few, peaceful moments in each other's arms, the hobbit kissed his husband’s forehead before sliding to the floor and started to scrub the counter. "But now you will go down to the kitchen and ask Bombur for a bucket of bones and a mug of cream. You want us to feed your family and the sons of Fundin so I have a lot of cooking to do."

When he noticed that his husband lingered in the doorway, Bilbo made an impatient gesture. "Shoo, get going! Or all we will serve is cucumber salad and I will hold you personally responsible for that!"

Smiling at his once again energetic hobbit, Thorin said quietly, "I love you very much. You know that, right?"

Putting down the sponge, Bilbo turned and smiled softly. "Not more than I love you, I can assure you, to Valinor and back again and nothing will ever change that."

Kissing his husband's forehead, Thorin finally managed to pull back and leave. No matter what Mahal decided to throw at him, as long as he had Bilbo by his side, he knew he would manage.

~ ♥ ~

No matter on how short a notice the invitations had been sent, everybody was hovering in the corridor in front of Bilbo's rooms a few moments before supper was supposed to be served. Their hobbit had drilled into them that punctuality was polite and since the young princes barged through the door with but a heartbeat to spare, he obviously had succeeded. Thrain shared a worried glance with his family and those closest to them. But in the end all could guess what this was about.

The cucumber salad with dill mayonnaise was fresh and crunchy. Steamy onion soup with fresh baked rolls filled them all up and a hearty cake with fresh blueberries and clotted cream made them lick their lips for more. More fresh bread with cheese and a variation of nuts and fruits rounded it all up nicely. The dwarves did not even bemoan the lack of meat, they felt so satisfied. Still, the atmosphere was subdued and when they finally lounged in front of the fireplace, each with a steaming cup of herbal tea, nobody seemed to know how to lighten the mood. They just shared worried glances. In the end it was Thrain's soft prompting that helped his son to begin. "Thorin, umzam , there are no dwarves in this mountain who care more for you than those gathered here. Whatever burdens you, let us help!"

Maybe it was his father's soft tone, maybe the use of an endearment he had thought to have grown out of decades ago, but all of a sudden Thorin did not want to keep his pain to himself any longer. Thrain was right. This was his family, their closest friends. If he could not trust these people, he and Bilbo were truly alone. But it would be alright. A gaze towards his hobbit told him of the boundless faith his husband had in these people, so he gathered his courage and started to tell the story of their homewards journey from the Shire.

 

The moon stood high in the sky when Thorin was finally finished. He had shared everything, yet Bilbo had noticed that he had glossed over some parts for his father and sister's sake. All those involved in his rescue had but to share a few glances to come to the unspoken agreement that they would not enlighten Dís and Thrain on what Thorin had kept to himself. For the longest time nobody said anything because what could one ever say when confronted with such horrors? Dís valiantly kept down her tears, but Dwalin knew that they would talk about this later. Still, he promised to himself that he would not betray his best friend's trust by revealing more.

Thorin couldn't help but flinch when his father pushed back his chair so that it nearly toppled over and left for the kitchen. The Durins exchanged worried looks, but in the end they all knew that it was the prince's task to talk to his father. After an encouraging nod from Bilbo, Thorin followed after Thrain. Upon entering the kitchen, he noticed that not even the sparse moonlight could hide his father's agitation. The king seemed to tremble all over from barely supressed rage. His fists on the counter were clenched so tight that his knuckles shone white.

Of course his father would be livid after hearing the extent of what Thorin had allowed to happen. Though his husband had tried to convince him otherwise, he was a warrior in the end. He should have fought harder, should have won against untrained humans, should not have succumbed. His voice was barely audible when he finally gathered the courage to speak. "I'm sorry, father. I know you are disappointed. I swear that I am trying my best to get better soon. To become strong again. But …"

"How can you say that?" Thrain interrupted hoarsely, turning around. "How can you even think that, son?" Pulling his child close, hugging him tight, Thrain's grip was nearly suffocating, but Thorin wouldn't have pulled back for anything in the world. When was the last time they had been this close? The dwarf couldn't even remember, so he revelled in his father's embrace.

When Thrain released Thorin after a while, he kept him close by a tight grip on his neck. "After the battle of Azanulbizar I was beside myself with grief. I had lost my father, my son-in-law, my child! We lost more people than we could count. Yet you never called me weak. You supported me. Stood by my side. Made decisions when my mind was clouded. And not once did you complain."

"Of course not," Thorin shook his head at that ridiculous idea. "You are my father and my king. It was my duty, as your son and heir, to support you and lead our people."

Rumbling slightly, Thorin shook Thorin by the scruff of his neck like an unruly puppy. "So how could you think I’d be anything but supportive as well?"

When Thorin smiled tentatively, Thrain pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. "I went mad after less hardship. You are the strongest dwarf I know. The torments you have suffered since Erebor would have broken a lesser being. But you are like iron that has been forged in the hottest flame: bendable yet strong. You might need time to be able to shine again, but the truth is that you have a strong core. One day you will make a fine king for our people. But until then you can rely on the support of your family. Never be ashamed of that."

 

Having listened in, Bilbo mumbled, "I really love our king right now, but …"

When the hobbit was unable to finish, Balin did so for him. "But you would gladly go out there to find these slave-traders."

"Cut off their hands," Fíli growled viciously and Kíli added, "Claw out their eyes!"

Dwalin, still looking towards the kitchen, finished hatefully, "Cripple them, so they won't have a day without suffering ever again."

Bilbo could only nod because that was exactly what he wanted to do. Yet his boiling hatred was calmed when Dís sat down beside him and took his hands. "They deserve that and more, Bilbo. But you did right by my brother when you decided upon their punishment. Humans are proud and vain and you set them on a path of endless suffering by their own doing. You are one of Yavanna's children. You are honest and pure. Have faith that the gods will make sure that these people will get what they deserve and be glad that you don't have more blood on your hands."

"Right now I would gladly bathe my hands in their blood, given the chance!" Bilbo hissed.

"I know," the princess said softly. "But my brother needs you more than you need your revenge. Isn't that true?"

Dropping his head in shame, Bilbo tried his best to shove all selfish thoughts aside. "Of course it is. Thank you, Dís."

 

When Thorin and his father returned, everybody was pointedly minding their own business. Yet it was all too easy to see through them. "You can all consider yourselves lucky that this is a matter of family and not of state. Otherwise I would have all of your heads for spying on your king." Thrain glared at each one of them thunderously until they all appeared sufficiently contrite; only then did the king reclaim his seat.

Brushing off his nervousness because of his father's unexpected support, Thorin claimed his place by Bilbo's side once again, after shooing his sister away. Not that Dís did not go willingly into Dwalin's arms.

"Alright, brother, you have shared your situation. Now tell us what we can do to make it better."

Shrugging, Thorin confessed, "I don't really know. I tried to get better on my own, burying what has happened. But all I achieved was putting the entire burden on Bilbo's shoulders and that was never my intention."

Looking at all the dwarves in this room, an idea came to Bilbo's mind. "Love, could you get me my pipe please?"

"Sure." Thorin didn't think twice about the request and stepped up to the mantelpiece where they kept their pipes and the weed. He froze when his husband commanded, "Stay right there, please and don't turn around." Confused the dwarf looked over his shoulder but remained unmoving at Bilbo's pleading gaze. After a few moments, Bilbo asked, "How do you feel?"

Through the mirror over the fireplace, Thorin could see the reflection of all the people at his back. He smiled a little, finally catching up with the meaning of the question, before he turned around. "Safe." Reclaiming his place, he added, "Since these men sneaked up on me in the woods, I don't like to have my back unprotected, as Dwalin has already discovered."

Sensing the direction his prince's thoughts were going, Balin promised, "So we will have your back, laddie. That's what we are here for after all."

Nodding gratefully, Thorin confirmed. "That would actually help me to keep up appearance. I don't want to concern our people with this. As father said: this is a family matter after all."

When they departed, Dís and the boys hugged Thorin tightly and even his father embraced him for another heartbeat. For a few moments the prince asked himself if he would have accepted his family’s support as easily in the past. But then, he was so tired of always fighting for himself, of always being strong for them. Maybe it was now his time to ask for help and from the looks of it, they all gave it gladly.

"I will pick you up after second breakfast. The fields are ready for the winter, or so Bilbo told me, but your hobbit wants to examine some of the inner valleys. That leaves us with time to get you back in shape. You've gone lazy, my prince."

Fake-tripping his friend on his way out, Thorin just clapped him on the back in passing. Both knew that Thorin had trained extensively, but had done so away from prying eyes. To finally have a worthy opponent again, probably even besting him, would help him regain his confidence.

After a brief chat with Bilbo, Balin bade them good night as well and then it was only the spouses. Thorin loved his family, he really did; but during his first summer in the Shire he had learned to treasure the quiet times when it was only Bilbo and him. Wordlessly he collected the cups and teapot and carried them to the sink. Bilbo had already started on the dishes, so he picked up a rag and dried them before putting everything back in its place. This was a calming ritual they shared most nights and though tonight their load was heavier than usual, neither minded.

Their shared bath was soothing, even though it lacked lavender. When Thorin finally sat on the footstool for Bilbo do to his hair (the hobbit's was already braided, since he had no patience for wet hair in his face) he allowed his thoughts to wander. The regular strokes of the comb taming his mane seemed to brush away the years until his mind was back at the battle of Moria. His king had suffered so much. Sometimes Thorin had needed the help of both Balin and Dwalin to get him under control, so that he would not hurt himself or those around him. Yet not for a single moment had Thorin ever thought his father weak. Desperate, yes. Mad with grief, certainly. But never weak. The prince had seen many of his people succumbing to wounds that were far from fatal, simply because they had lost their will to live, since every member of their family had been slaughtered. But despite his heavy injuries, Thrain had held on to life with tooth and nail. He had fought his way back to health, both physically and mentally. And though he had changed, had become harder, less prone to listen to advice, he had become a good king again, caring for the lives of his people above all else. Sure, he had made mistakes, some of them only a few years ago, but he had always done what he had thought best.

So no, Thorin surely had never looked down at his father. That Thrain shared the sentiment had lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. His father was not disappointed in him. It did not matter how long he needed to get better, with his family at his back, Thorin knew he would manage.

"Are you finished, my love?" he asked, looking up at his hobbit.

Bilbo only smiled tenderly, stroking his hair with a gentle hand. "I have been finished for the quarter of an hour. But you seemed lost in thought, so I didn't want to disturb you." Setting aside the comb, the hobbit reached for his husband. "Come on, love. Let's go to bed."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler:  
> Sadly, their eternity ended half an hour later, when Tamon entered, pointedly avoided looking at them, and explained that Bombur had sent up a hearty breakfast. He also shared that the royal consort was expected in the library, if he was amendable. Prince Thorin would do good to arrive at the barracks as soon as convenient. Master Dwalin was currently putting new recruits through the motions, and his less than stellar mood did little to help the situation. Once the food was spread over the breakfast-table the elderly dwarf returned to Bilbo's bedroom and bowed deeply. "But of course the councillors were informed not to expect you today, your royal highnesses."


	4. Recuperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, their eternity ended half an hour later, when Tamon entered, pointedly avoided looking at them, and explained that Bombur had sent up a hearty breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My most heartfelt apologies for taking so long to post another chapter. But you know, Christmas and New Year and an excited ten-year-old took a lot of time away from me. But now, enjoy the next chapter :)

Thorin wondered. "Why don't you want us to sleep apart?" They had changed into their sleeping pants and once again, Thorin had claimed the place on his hobbit's chest, instead of curling into himself. Bilbo's arms enveloped him instantly. "Even if I have a nightmare, at least you would find some rest."

The hobbit took his time with the answer, trying to think of a way to make his husband understand that leaving simply wasn't an option for him. "You remember this huge storm last fall? The one that whistled through all corners and beat against the mountain?"

"Sure. It was your first thunderstorm here. You were scared stiff. We slept over at the boys’ that night." Thorin remembered with a small smile on his face. "Fíli and Kíli found the caves upstairs that evening."

"Hm." Bilbo confirmed. "They took good care of me. So, why didn't you sleep in your own bed, that night? You trust your nephews and the storm wouldn't have bothered you, since you are probably used to them."

Indignant, Thorin huffed and turned around, so that he was able to look at his husband. "I would never! You are my husband. If you are troubled, my place is by your side!" When he saw the grin on his hobbit's face, he finally caught up with what Bilbo was trying to tell him. Laying back down with a grumble, he whispered after a moment, "I love you, Bilbo Baggins."

"And I you, Thorin Oakenshield. But now sleep, my sweet. I have instructed Balin to excuse us from yet another council meeting. We have a lot of sleep to catch up on."

~ ♥ ~

The first rays of sunshine woke Bilbo from his peaceful slumber and with concern he noticed that he was alone in bed. Yet before he could start grumbling because he had been abandoned once again, his husband entered from the bathroom, yawning with his eyes half closed. Instinctively, since the hobbit doubted very much that he was lucid enough to make a conscious choice, the dwarf found their bed and crawled back under the covers. However, before he could trap Bilbo once again under him, the hobbit slipped out to relieve himself as well.

Washing his hands, he noticed the sun crawling over the horizon, the golden rays making him smile. For the first time in five weeks had they managed to sleep through an entire night without a single nightmare to wake them. Still, Bilbo felt far from well rested, therefore he decided that he could do with a few more hours of sleep. Picking up a light cloth to cover the slits over his bed, the hobbit joined his dwarf under the covers again. In an attempt to get warm, Thorin had curled up, leaving his back free for Bilbo to wrap himself around.

~ ♥ ~

When Thorin woke, nimble fingers caressed his stomach and the soft breaths of his lover tickled his nape. For the first time in weeks he felt good, comfortable even and quite appreciative of the swelling flesh that pressed into his backside. Until now, he had not been able to conjure the slightest interest in any kind of bed sports, since he had been too ashamed of himself. Apart from being weak, he had considered himself unsightly in the eyes of a hobbit, due to his numerous new scars. These humans had cared very little for wound treatment and several whip slashes had healed poorly. Now, however, his body was more than interested, slowly but surely mirroring the hard-on he felt at his back. Still, he stayed as motionless as possible. His nightmares had cost his beloved countless nights of rest; the least he could do was not to disturb him now that they had finally made it through a night.

All his good intentions evaporated like fog in the morning light, when Bilbo's hand slowly travelled lower, cupping him through his pants. Unsure if this motion had been accidental, Thorin tried to muffle his groan, while his body pushed into his hobbit's hand. A warm snicker, right beside his ear, revealed that Bilbo was indeed very conscious of what he was doing. "And a good morning to you too, my love. What should we do about this tall fellow? Hm … I might have an idea if you are amenable."

Turning on his back, smiling at his beaming husband, Thorin stole a kiss before relaxing into the pillows again. "Whatever you want, dear husband. He and I are entirely at your service." In an uncharacteristically bold move, the dwarf closed his hand around his shaft and pumped it once, twice through his pants. The tip was already peeking out from under his waistband. When he brushed away a tiny drop of precum, Bilbo growled at the back of his throat and captured Thorin's fingers between his lips. Eyes fluttering close, he whispered, "I so love the way you taste. Like hot iron and wet stone. Like the mountain." Obviously unable to hold himself back, he released Thorin's fingers and bent down to circle the tip of his dwarf's cock with his tongue, while pulling the offending pants away. The hobbit was rewarded with a moan from his lover and more of Thorin's passion.

Desire had started to burn through his body mere moments after his lover's hands had travelled lower to touch him and, as always, Thorin was far too easily overwhelmed by it. With an inhuman effort, the dwarf buried his hand in his lover's curls to pull him back. He did not want to find release. Not so soon. Not when they had not taken their time to make love for so long. "Bilbo, please, I want to be joined with you. For us to share our pleasure."

"Whatever your heart desires, my sweet." His hobbit grinned mischievously and reached for the vial of oil on their bedside table. Thorin was very appreciative of the fact that his hobbit was naked as well and brushed kisses over the soft flesh that passed him by when Bilbo stretched. Yet instead of returning between his lover's legs, Bilbo climbed Thorin and straddled his chest, facing his dainty feet.

Thoroughly enjoying the view of his husband's perky bottom, the dwarf reached for him and pulled him up, so that he could nibble on his soft flesh. Bilbo seemed to like that, because his breath sped up and he pushed into Thorin encouragingly. Only when his dwarf moved towards the centre, tickling him with his beard did the hobbit pull back with a giggle. "Naughty, naughty. You know very well how ticklish I am. For that, you will now put your hands over your head and hold on to the headboard. All you are allowed to do is observe!"

Caressing his husband's back, slowly trailing over his thighs, along his shanks and over the soft hair on his feet, Thorin lifted his arms over his head, reaching for the intricate wooden carving that served as an anchor during their playtime. "Whatever you say, my dear."

Peeking over his shoulder, Bilbo grinned. "Now watch."

The dwarf exhaled sharply when a thin stream of oil hit his belly and pooled inside his navel. He could feel the tip of Bilbo's finger scoping it up before they appeared in his line of sight. With small, careful movements the hobbit circled his puckered entrance before sinking the tip of his finger into his body. Slowly going deeper before pulling out again, Bilbo picked up more oil that was now warmed by Thorin's skin and returned his hand to his tempting backside. He repeated the motion several more times, before letting his finger be joined by a second and then a third.

Mesmerized by the picture, Thorin had to fight valiantly to gather his thoughts. His voice was hoarse when he breathed, "What are you doing, Bilbo?"

"Entertaining myself," the hobbit replied with a pleasurable groan. "Do you enjoy the view? From my perspective, it looks like you are enjoying yourself a lot."

There was no way to deny that, since the dwarf felt himself leaking already, only because of the picture his husband presented. Things got even more exciting when his husband mixed his fluids with the oil and used the combination to stretch himself further. Thorin felt dizzy with desire, yet still had the presence of mind to reach for his lover and still him. "We can't do that, Bilbo. I will hurt you again."

Stopping mid-motion when he felt his husband's hands on his skin, Bilbo looked over his shoulder. Thorin seemed caught between desire and concern. His passion-glazed eyes jumped from Bilbo's face to his fingers, which were still buried in his body. "Bilbo!" A desperate whine escaped him when the hobbit's hole twitched around the digits.

"Let go, Thorin," the smaller man demanded with a purr. "Hands back to the headboard."

Trembling all over, the dwarf unclenched his fingers from Bilbo's hips and returned them over his head. When his hobbit resumed his task, Thorin had to suppress a low whine. He wanted this. Mahal knew how very much he wanted this. Yet the idea of bringing harm to his beloved was at war with his desire.

"You are not watching, my love." Bilbo teased. "Don't tell me you'd rather have me stop."

Shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut, Thorin admitted, "I want this. So very much, but …"

Turning around so that he could look into his beloved's eyes, cleaning his fingers with a rag they stored in the drawer of their night table, Bilbo caressed his husband's face until the dwarf looked at him again. "I won't let you hurt me, I promise."

Looking up hopefully, Thorin nodded after a few moments, watching the hobbit slowly slid down but stopped short of merging their bodies. "Help me," he prompted and reluctantly his lover let go of the headboard and lined himself up with Bilbo's entrance. Excruciatingly slowly the hobbit sank down and when he was fully seated he smiled like the sun. "Now take my hands," he whispered, and when their fingers were entwined Bilbo started to move.

Thorin closed his eyes against the pure bliss of the sensation. They had made love before, but never like this. Never with Bilbo accepting him into his body, cocooning him in the feeling of soft and warm and home and right. Their union had bordered on being violent before, but now everything was different, soft and comfortable. Thorin opened his eyes again and met those of his hobbit, that shone with a love so deep it seemed to contain all of Middle Earth. Caressing his husband's face, allowing him to pull their clasped hands to his lips to place the most affectionate kiss on his knuckles, he realized that this was it. Everything he had longed for, everything he had ever wanted in his life was right here in his arms and it was pure bliss when he allowed himself to arch into the motion. "How could you know?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "How could you be so sure that this would not end badly, like last time?"

Brushing his lips over his husband's skin, rocking slowly in his lap, Bilbo groaned, "Because I am the most important person in your life. Everything I am belongs to you and you would rather die than harm me."

"I did before," Thorin reminded him thickly, freeing one hand to caress the faint scare he had left on his husband's shoulder, before pulling him closer to kiss it. He had needed this, more than he had realized, and the feeling of their joined bodies stole his breath away.

Sensing his husband's need, Bilbo caressed his face and kissed his forehead. "You were desperate and you didn't know."

Pushing into the hobbit, chasing their pleasure, Thorin had to concentrate to keep himself from coming. He didn't want this to end. Not now. Not so soon. Raspingly he groaned against the overwhelming sensation, "I know now."

Leaning back, targeting his own sweet spot, Bilbo hissed when his partner wrapped his hand around his cock. He was close, so very close, yet he managed to look into his husband's eyes one last time, revealing. "I love you."

Peaking with a cry, Bilbo was lost in sensation when Thorin leaned up and captured him in his arms again, rocking them, so that the hobbit could ride out the aftershocks of his peak.

Bilbo felt drained, but in the best possible way, when Thorin sank back and took him with him.

Thorin's own orgasm had come as an afterthought to Bilbo's. His husband clenching around him, trembling in his arms had pushed him over the edge, but it had not been this overwhelming, blinding force that shook him to the core. Instead it had been like a breath of fresh air, alleviating in the best possible way. A relief of tension that had kept him trapped for the longest time. Thorin lowered his face to bury it in his husband's copper locks, inhaling his alluring scent, making Bilbo chuckle against his chest. Pulling a light blanket over their damp bodies Thorin closed his eyes and wished for this moment to last for all eternity.

~ ♥ ~

Sadly, their eternity ended half an hour later, when Tamon entered, pointedly avoided looking at them, and explained that Bombur had sent up a hearty breakfast. He also informed them that the royal consort was expected in the library, if he was agreeable. Prince Thorin would do well to arrive at the barracks as soon as convenient. Master Dwalin was currently putting new recruits through the motions, and his less than stellar mood did little to help the situation. Once the food was set on the breakfast table, the elderly dwarf returned to Bilbo's bedroom and bowed deeply. "But of course the councillors were informed not to expect you today, your royal highnesses."

With a groan, Bilbo hid his face in Thorin's chest. "That was decidedly **not** what I had in mind when I told Balin to excuse us from the council yesterday!"

"You wanted to marry a prince, beloved," Thorin chuckled. "So don't complain about the responsibilities."

"I wanted to marry you," Bilbo corrected him. "You just came with a stupid kingdom. Can't we elope and you continue to work as a blacksmith? I heard that Hobbiton is still one short."

"No," the dwarf smiled, aware that Bilbo would not give up their people for anything.

"Of course, Master Baggins," Tamon offered helpfully, "I could tell Master Regin that you can't make time to go over the new books the Scribes' Guild had managed to purchase from a travelling merchant this morning."

 "New books?" The hobbit scholar perked up and that and when Tamon confirmed with a smile he dashed out of bed a whirlwind of activity for the next minutes. Impatiently he pulled clothes from his wardrobe before vanishing into the bathroom.

Rising at a much more sedated pace, allowing Tamon to help him with his clothes after he had thoroughly cleaned himself, Thorin looked at the elderly dwarf. "You were not poking fun at my husband, Tamon? He would be very disappointed if there were no new books to be found in the library."

"Certainly not, Sire," the servant replied, indignant at such an accusation. "To my knowledge a whole chest was retrieved. The royal apprentice Ori asked me during breakfast to find out if his royal highness would be willing to help. And, if you allow me that observation, both of you look considerably better than yesterday. I thought that Master Baggins could do with a little distraction."

Bilbo chose that very moment to enter Thorin's chamber. He was currently swallowing down a huge bite of scone, had some oatmeal on the corner of his mouth and a seedcake in his pocket. "Thorin, love, would you mind if I …"

Laughing out loud, Thorin brushed away the trace of breakfast from Bilbo's lips before kissing him and prompted, "Go and have fun at the library."

Relieved Bilbo rose to his tip-toes and kissed his husband before sprinting out of the door with a, "Thank you … love you …" and was gone.

Closing the door after him, Tamon pondered, "I doubt that you will see your husband again before the day is through, my Lord."

"Thank you, Tamon." Thorin smiled at his servant. Before leaving to see Dwalin he headed to the kitchen to find out what Bilbo had left for him. He couldn't help but smile adoringly when he saw the carefully arranged tray with oatmeal, decorated with raspberries that had been shaped into a heart, in the middle. Beside the bowl was hot tea, a scone with a knob of butter and a spoonful of jam, because that was the way Thorin liked them best. Bilbo had undoubtedly wolfed down part of his meal before stuffing his pockets with the rest. Still he had taken his time with arranging Thorin's.

Though he had put his husband through a lot these last few weeks, Bilbo still kept his happiness at the forefront of his mind, even in something as simple as arranging breakfast in a way that would make Thorin smile. With all his heart the dwarf hoped that his consort would have a great day at the library, he surely deserved it. He could do without his saviour for mere day, right?

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo deserved a husband he could rely upon, because despite everything he had suffered, Thorin was well aware that his hobbit came with nightmares of his own, some of which had been gathered very recently. Pulling himself up, the dwarven prince decided that proper training, to be able to defend himself once again, would help him on his road of recovery.


	5. Borrowed Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retreating to the table he had occupied before, the hobbit stared at the numerous books that covered it. At an inviting gesture, the Master of Scribes sat beside him and side by side they stared at their treasure.
> 
> "You don't think …" the dwarf began half-heartedly, trailing off. The hobbit nodded after brief consideration. "Yes, I do. And so do you. Am I right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I kept you waiting a long time over Christmas and New Year. But I decided to go back to a regular one-chapter-a-week schedule since it doesn't put too much pressure on me or my beta to write and to edit. I want to enjoy writing this story as much as you enjoy reading it. I hope you can be patient.

Not even the Yavanna's endless gardens could be better than this. Bilbo found great joy in helping Ori and Master Regin to sort through the silver studded chest and pick up one precious book after another to inspect it. He still couldn't believe that the dwarves had been able to buy such a treasure from a traveling merchant – and from what they had told him, at an extremely reasonable price. It still had been a small fortune, but to a hobbit like him, such books were invaluable. Bilbo was delighted to discover that several volumes explained the plants native to this region.

As he was leafing through one of them, he noticed Ori at his side all of a sudden.

"Bilbo?" At his master's stern gaze, he corrected himself instantly. "Your royal highness, I mean."

Shaking his head because he liked 'Bilbo' so much better, the hobbit acknowledged his friend without being able to drag his eyes away from the beautiful pictures of sea-plants that filled the pages before him. "What is it, Ori?"

"This book … the letters look similar to the ones you showed me in Bag End. That's Elvish, right?"

Looking up briefly, the hobbit confirmed, "Yes, that's Sindarin. Very good." He smiled at the young dwarf proudly and gestured at a book on the desk by his side. "That one is Sindarin too, but I've already read it in Rivendell. It's a guide to herbology. I've a translation somewhere in my library."

Returning to his pages, Bilbo did not notice the worried glance Ori and the Master of Scribes shared behind his back. He had to force down a tingle of annoyance, when Master Regin addressed him. "I'm sorry to interrupt, your royal highness. But I really think it would be best if you could lend us a helping hand."

Remembering manners, he carefully put the beautiful volume down and together they returned to the chest. Carefully – if Bilbo didn't know better he even would have called the Master Scribe anxious – the dwarf picked the next book and offered it for inspection. "Healing plants native to the sea. Sindarin." And the next. "A cookbook for fish and other sea-food. Westron." Smiling, he leafed through the volume that immediately followed. "Look, this one is in Khuzdul. An essay on the dwarven families that lived in these mountains over the centuries." Frowning, Bilbo picked another. "Another essay, this one about the elves of the Grey Havens." After inspecting another book, the hobbit started to get concerned. "Every other one is written in Sindarin." Extracting one from the bottom, the royal consort mumbled worriedly. "This one even looks like a very old diary and I think I’ve seen that rune before." Returning to the book he had been handed last, the hobbit paled, "This book belongs to Círdan. To my knowledge he is the shipwright of the West. But more importantly, he is the Master of the Grey Havens. Where did you say these books came from?"

Having his fear confirmed, the elderly dwarf stepped back from the chest. "We bought them from a merchant that passed through this morning. He had been here before, selling trinkets of little worth. We never thought anything of it."

"Well," Bilbo decided gravely. "We definitely should think of it now."

"Would you … it is past elevenses already. I could dash to the kitchen and get you something." Ori offered, at loss of what to do. "Maybe some tea?" Tea always made everything better, or so his brother and their hobbit-friend had taught him.

"You know what, Ori, that would be lovely." Bilbo exhaled, looking at his young friend. Retreating to the table he had occupied before, the hobbit stared at the numerous books that covered it. At an inviting gesture, the Master of Scribes sat beside him and side by side they stared at their treasure.

"You don't think …" the dwarf began half-heartedly, trailing off. The hobbit nodded after brief consideration. "Yes, I do. And so do you. Am I right?"

Twisting his beard nervously the dwarf confirmed. "We were never on good terms with these elves. But now, with a valid reason to act against us, I worry what they will do."

"This was not our fault!" Bilbo insisted.

Shaking his head, the Master of Scribes sagged lower into the seat. "If they come with ill intentions, I doubt that it will make any difference."

After a few more minutes Ori returned with a light meal and the three relocated to another table. Once Bilbo had had his tea and cold meat with cheese and apples, he cleaned his hands and decided. "We won't let it come so far as to them coming with ill intentions. Please get me a few sheets of paper and a scroll."

Fetching what was requested, Ori spread out everything in front of their hobbit. "What are you going to do, Bilbo?"

Smiling, Bilbo reached for his friend's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "Tell the truth. I will explain how books that belong to them came into our possession and request for them to pick them up."

"But we bought these!"

"Yes," Bilbo admitted. "We did. And I think at a fair price, considering that it will hopefully help us to improve the situation with our distant neighbours. Don't you think, Master Regin?"

"Of course, your royal highness." Though there were many dwarves living in these mountains, only some of them were warriors – far too few for them to be an army. Moria had not been that long ago. Many dwarflings were eager to learn how to fight, but there were not enough of them to defend this mountain, should the elves go so far as to attack them at this perceived slight. They were at a disadvantage. The Master of Scribes only hoped that the consort's letter would not draw attention to a problem that might have been overlooked otherwise.

When Bilbo was finished, Ori looked at the books longingly and asked, "What do you think we should do with these until someone picks them up?"

Grinning mischievously, Bilbo met the young dwarf's eyes and wiggled his eyebrows. "Exactly what we are supposed to do here: write down the information they contain."

"You want to copy them!" The young dwarf grinned like mad and dashed off to find every scribe available in the mountain. With a narrow timeframe and numerous volumes, they needed as much help as possible if they wanted to have any hope to finish their task before the books were reclaimed.

Bilbo inspected the Sindarin volumes and returned the majority of them to the chest with uttermost care. Only two books he held back: one on the healing properties on the local fauna, and one on the care of aforementioned plants. He would have to work fast and probably neglect the pictures in favour of the writing, but this information was too valuable to let go. Once he had chosen which books to copy, Bilbo looked at the Master of Scribes who seemed concerned. "Do you really think this wise? For us to copy books that don't belong to us?"

Sagging a little because he had feared that this question would arise, Bilbo shook his head. "Wise, no, probably not. Smart, in any case. These contain knowledge we are lacking. Knowledge we might need one day. I am a scholar and value information. Yet even more I value the lives of our people who will benefit from it. The plants available around here have properties I did not know of. So I would rather have these books at hand, instead of being polite and returning them to the treasure chest."

"What if the elves get angry?"

"Then I will apologize. We only copy the volumes unrelated to them and their culture and leave the rest alone. To my experience, most elves are sensible. They cherish everything that breathes and enjoy sharing their knowledge about it. Let's hope that the elves of the Grey Havens do not differ that much from Master Elrond's people."

Sighing deeply, Regin admitted, "From what I have heard of them, they could not be any more different. But let us hope for the best."

~ ♥ ~

Thorin's morning had been rather quiet after Bilbo had taken off at a run. Though he had felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders this morning, the former captive was far from fine. He had tried to be strong, but noticing Bilbo's breakdown the day before yesterday had been like a punch in the gut. Thorin had just wanted to be alright again, but had obviously approached the situation from the wrong angle. It had torn into his heart to see his beloved husband so beside himself after breaking the oil bottle in the bathroom. That night he would have done anything to make him feel better. His hobbit had wanted him to talk, so he had delved into dark memories and dragged them into the light. He had been surprised, but not overly so, to notice that he had felt a little better afterwards. He had always known that Bilbo only had the best of intentions when he had tried to make him speak about the whole ordeal.

It had not taken Thorin long to realize that he had heaped too much on his beloved's shoulders. Though it had gone against his every instinct, he had gathered his family and their closest friends, and had shared his weakness and shame. Everything to make it easier on his husband. His father's words, his support and his praise had come unexpected, but Thorin had drunk them in like a man dying of thirst. He had hoped for understanding, maybe even leniency, and had received so much more. Somehow he asked himself if leading his people through Middle Earth could have been easier for him if he had confided in his family at the time. Well, it was useless to ponder on the past now. All he wanted was getting better as soon as possible.

Bilbo deserved a husband he could rely upon, because despite everything he had suffered, Thorin was well aware that his hobbit came with nightmares of his own, some of which had started to plague him only recently. Pulling himself up, the dwarven prince decided that proper training session, to be able to defend himself once again, would help him on his road of recovery. And he could save these new recruits from the terror that was his best friend in a bad mood.

~ ♥ ~

To say that the warrior who served as the prince's bodyguard was slightly irritated, was like saying hobbits were a little fond of their gardens. The new recruits shivered in corners and hid behind weapon racks, hoping that they would be spared from a fight with him. Yet Dwalin gave them no reprieve. One after another was called forth and downright destroyed by the mighty warrior. Luckily nobody had suffered any serious injuries yet. No matter how angry, their teacher still seemed to have a firm grip on his skills. While the young dwarves were drenched in sweat, nursing bruises and a few minor abrasions, the warrior's breath was only slightly elevated.

Yes, Thorin decided, watching his friend, this was exactly what he needed right now. The time for hiding was over. After putting on some armour, he stepped into the ring. The young dwarves pulled further back and looked at him anxiously. "Why don't you spare the dwarflings and face a real challenge?"

"One you intend to provide, my prince?" Dwalin spat out, his fury only rising when he saw his friend with the dark circles under his eyes and a tense posture. He should have been there! His desire to be with Dís had made him abandon his charge and Thorin had paid the price. "It is not you I wish to fight!"

Approaching his friend, handing him his favourite weapon, the prince agreed. "Nor I you, but here we are. So let's make the best of it."

Dwalin's knuckles turned white when gripping his hammer. Both his friend and he needed this. Thorin needed to stop being afraid and as a warrior, he would only achieve that through proving himself in a fight. "I won't hold back like I did with the younglings."

Drawing his blade, Thorin smiled. "I would be insulted if you did."

It took a bare minute for the recruits to realize how easy Dwalin had gone on them. There was no lenience now. The tattooed warrior swung his hammer with full force and though all of them could have sworn before that nobody had a chance against his instrument of war, their prince held his ground. For several moments nobody dared to breathe, too anxious to draw the attention of these mighty warriors. Jet the moment Dwalin hit Thorin in the back, sending his prince to his knees, a few of them stepped forth, as if determined to defend their prince. Not that anybody would have dared to actually approach the pair.

Thorin shook himself out of his fighting trance and got up again. Luckily he had been able to deflect most of the force from the hit, otherwise Dwalin might have broken his back. Still, being bested didn't sit well with him. So he forced out from between clenched teeth, "Again!"

Yet his friend did not follow the command. Instead he leaned on his hammer. "What did you do wrong?"

"I don't know yet."

"Then this is going to be a painful lesson."

Brushing away blood from a split lip Dwalin had given him earlier, Thorin replied with a grin, "The educational ones always are."

Rumbling good naturedly – an honest fight went a long way to improve his mood – the warrior teased, "Did your hobbit teach you that?"

"No," Thorin replied, strengthening his grip on his blade. "Your brother," and attacked his friend viciously. Though not as strong, the dwarven prince certainly was faster than his burly friend. Forcing Dwalin to retreat, he had the warrior halfway through the training-ring before the other found his footing again. By then Thorin had managed to damage his armour and nick his cheek. It was not hard for the powerful warrior to regain his ground but he felt strangely content to notice that his friend relaxed into the motions again and managed to lose some of the tension that had held him in a tight grip before. The next time Dwalin directed his swing towards Thorin's back, the prince avoided him easily.

Using his friend's slight imbalance, Thorin turned into the motion and pulled him clean off his feet. Dwalin's body hitting the ground vibrated through the entire hall. Within but a heartbeat, the prince had his blade at his friend's throat. "Do you yield?"

Still having his hammer, Dwalin pulled the handle and swept his opponent off his feet as well. Thorin went down like a stone. Laughing the warrior shook his head. "Never."

 

Together they spent the time until lunch training the young recruits who barely dared to face them in the ring. Both agreed that the young ones were really trying and only stopped when the recruits could barely stay upright. Most of them were already crouching against the walls, breathing heavily. Wordlessly they took off their armour and stored their weapons. On their way to the dining hall, Thorin suggested, "We should send them into the inner valleys to prepare the soil for a few vegetable patches for Bilbo. Working on uneven ground for a few days might improve their balance."

Brushing away blood he had overlooked before, Dwalin frowned. "I thought seeding is done in the springtime."

"I think so too. But Bilbo will enjoy planning a few patches anyway, and you remember how strenuous fieldwork is. It might help them."

"True," his friend admitted. He thought about addressing the matter at hand, since he had noticed Thorin tensing up again after they had left the training area, but decided against it. They wouldn't get a chance for a private conversation any time soon. Still, Dwalin was worried because his friend started to toy with his braids and twisted the beads. That in itself was not uncommon amongst dwarrows, but Thorin had abandoned this particular habit ages ago. Not even the vile little hobbit Gentian Longleaf had dragged it to the surface. These damn slave-traders however had. Dwalin hoped that they would die a slow and painful death.

He was well aware that the prince tried to keep his composure, once they were in the public eye again. So they chatted about this and that while eating, before they walked the defence walls. Thorin showed himself jovial and open, but seemed to keep half an eye on Dwalin, making sure that his friend had his back. Not that there was any chance for Dwalin to abandon him ever again.

~ ♥ ~

Thorin tried. He really did. But since he was not alone, he could not even catch a few minutes of reprieve from the constant scrutiny of his people. Dwalin had been his bodyguard for many decades. Yet he did not instil the same feeling of safety in Thorin's heart as Bilbo. Were they about to fight, he would have preferred to have his friend at his side more than anybody else. But at the moment, however illogical, he needed his hobbit.

Ever since they had met for the first time in the Shire, Bilbo had helped him, his nephews, his people, time and time again. He had invited them into his home. Had gone to any length to help when he had discovered the extent of their plight. The courageous little hobbit had shown him a life he had never thought possible for himself: a life where he felt supported and cherished, even loved. Now his heart tried to reach for these feelings, because bad memories once again rose from the depths of his mind.

Thorin was surprised when he noticed them standing in front of the doors of the library all of a sudden. He had simply followed Dwalin after lunch, determined to go through with whatever his friend had planned for him today. He knew that Dwalin only had his best interests at heart, no matter how much he wished for a few minutes of solitude.

A heavy hand weighted down his shoulder. Confused he looked at the other dwarf when the warrior addressed him. "Nobody expects you to get better overnight." Thorin's face closed off, because he did not like being called on his weakness. But Dwalin only squeezed his shoulder before he stepped back. "I expect you back tomorrow at nine sharp. I'm far from finished with you."

Just before Dwalin could disappear behind the corner, Thorin called out, "Thank you."

Turning around one last time, bowing deeply, Dwalin replied, "At your service, my prince. Forever at your service."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I did not intend for you to abandon your work, Bilbo." As always, Thorin had a bad conscience for imposing on his husband's time during the day. Yet the longer he had forced himself to stay away, the more his unease had grown. He was well aware that he was using Bilbo as a crutch, but couldn't bring himself to pull back. In his heart his fierce little hobbit meant safety, and Thorin needed that feeling right now. Especially since his hobbit always gave in so very easily.


	6. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No … No … Please!"  
> Bilbo's desperate pleading woke Thorin and since his hobbit tossed and turned frantically, he couldn't get a good grip on him to shake him awake gently. Therefore, the dwarf opted for weighting the smaller body down by throwing an arm and a leg over him. "Bilbo, love, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Thorin took a relaxing breath when he spotted Bilbo at a secluded desk in the back of the library. As if sensing him, his husband looked up and smiled for about half a heartbeat before his expression became thunderous. Rounding the table, he approached his lover, voice sharp when he demanded to know, "Who did this?"

Capturing his hobbit's hands kissing them, Thorin merely smiled. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Pulling away his hands, reaching for his handkerchief, carefully dipping it against his dwarf's split lip as to not hurt him, Bilbo glared when it came back with a smudge of blood on it. "This is not nothing! I want to know who did this to you, so I can have words with him!"

Regarding the last time Bilbo had 'words' with someone had ended with the hobbit's knuckles split open, the dwarf shook his head. Even if Dwalin accepted a corporal punishment from the royal consort (he might actually succumb to it because he liked their hobbit very much) chances were good that Bilbo would suffer the greater damage and Thorin certainly didn't want that. "I was training and not attentive enough. It really was my own fault."

Deflating a little, because nobody had intentionally done harm, accidents happened when weapons were wielded, Bilbo mumbled, "I hope you gave Dwalin at least a black eye."

Smiling, glad that his partner had calmed a little, Thorin shook his head. "No, but I cut his cheek. Does that count?"

"No," Bilbo grumbled, caressing his husband's face. "Try harder! I don't like this."

"As you wish, my love." Thorin closed his arms around his hobbit and Bilbo snuggled closer. Oh yes, this was exactly what he needed.

 

Bilbo took his time to fuss over his husband to make him feel cared for. He really did not like the guarded look in Thorin's eyes when he had entered the library. He hated that, really did, because cautious eyes meant that Thorin was overwhelmed, did not feel safe enough to relax in his own home. Thrain acted just the same, as did Dís. The older Durins were so used to being the centre of attention that they rarely gave away how they really felt. They had learned to stay composed in public, hide their fears, because dwarves only had faith in strong leaders. Fortunately, Fíli and Kíli were different for now. But that was mostly thanks to them not having fought in the battle that had killed their father, uncle and grandfather. Though they had undoubtedly suffered during their journey through Middle Earth, their mother and uncle had protected them from the worst.

Now Thorin was on guard again and Bilbo wanted to put him at ease. These were his mountains after all. A place where he should feel safe.

After a while, Bilbo pulled back and asked, "Do you want to have lunch, my sweet?"

Wondering what had had his hobbit so distracted, Thorin frowned. "It's already past lunchtime, closer to tea even."

"Really?" Bilbo wondered, shaking his head over how very much this book had captured his attention. "Ori, did I have lunch?"

Coming around the corner with a fresh batch of paper, the young dwarf nodded. "Of course, Bilbo. You ate two sandwiches I fetched from my brother's tea-shop, and a few cookies. You said you liked the ones with pumpkin best."

"Did I …" Trying to remember, Bilbo only had a faint idea what Ori was talking about. "Well, anyway, I am sure Dori's treats were excellent. Now I will retreat with my husband." He picked up the Elvish book and his translation and hugged them to his chest. Brushing off Thorin's faint protests that there was no need for him to leave, Bilbo talked to the Master of Scribes one last time, imploring him to keep the new books safe, before they returned to the royal wing.

 

Only now that Bilbo had left the stuffy atmosphere of the library and was no longer immersed in his book, did he notice how tired he really was.

"I did not intend for you to abandon your work, Bilbo." As always, Thorin had a bad conscience for imposing on his husband's time. However, the longer he forced himself to stay away, the more his unease grew. He was well aware that he was using Bilbo as a crutch, but couldn't bring himself to pull back. In his heart his fierce little hobbit meant safety, and Thorin needed that feeling right now. Especially since Bilbo always gave in so easily.

"Nonsense," The hobbit shook his head. "The library is great, but I can copy a book anywhere. Why don't we take a nap and I will return to my duties afterwards?"

"We can't sleep the afternoon away," the dwarven prince, used to numerous duties that barely allowed him to sleep at night, protested. Sure, with his hobbit's support his workload had lessened, but still. To idle a part of the day away was unthinkable.

"Why not? Do you feel well rested?"

"No, but …"

"Thorin, love," Bilbo interrupted him, placing the volume on his desk once they had entered his chambers. "I am tired and so are you. I cleared our schedule for today, so there is no reason why we shouldn't relax a little."

Admitting that rest sounded quite enticing, Thorin took off his boots and clothes until he was down to his trousers and shirt before crawling onto the bed. Unexpectedly Bilbo snuggled into his arms, playing the little spoon. Hugging his hobbit tight, the dwarf tenderly kissed his pointy ear and whispered, "Thank you."

Pulling their clasped fingers to his mouth, Bilbo brushed a kiss over Thorin's knuckles and replied quietly, "Any time."

Within moments both were fast asleep.

~ ♥ ~

"No … **No** … **Please**!"

Bilbo's desperate pleading woke Thorin and since his hobbit tossed and turned frantically, he couldn't get a good grip on him to shake him awake gently. Therefore, the dwarf opted for weighting the smaller body down by throwing an arm and a leg over him. "Bilbo, love, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

It took but a few moments for the trapped hobbit to open his eyes. For a heartbeat he stopped breathing and merely looked at Thorin. Then he dissolved into tears. Whimpering he rolled into his husband and clutched Thorin's shirt. His fingers burrowed into the soft material and he pressed his face into the wide chest. Huge sobs wracked his small frame and all his dwarf could do was pull him as close as possible. The contact seemed to be all he needed at the moment.

Thorin tried to find a way to soothe his agitated husband, but apart from rubbing his back and whispering into his ear, nothing came to mind. Yet somehow Bilbo didn't seem to expect more, because the tighter his dwarf held him, the easier he breathed. So Thorin spread his hands over Bilbo's back after having pulled him on top. He would prefer to wrap them up in the big quilt, but he didn't want to get up – not when his little hobbit was so beside himself.

Time passed and slowly Bilbo calmed enough to ease the vice-like grip he had on his husband's shirt. Thorin relaxed a little but didn't let go. His fingers trailed through copper locks, enjoying how the hobbit breathed easer with each passing moment.

"I'm sorry." Bilbo's voice was hoarse from crying. "I know the last thing you need is me breaking down."

Gently Thorin pulled back one of Bilbo's braids and caressed his damp face. "That's stupid, beloved, and usually you know better. If you don't feel well I'm here for you. What makes you think now is any different?"

"I don't know." Rubbing his face, Bilbo wiggled a little to the slide, but his husband would have none of that and held him tight. "Maybe I thought that only one of us can go through a crisis at any given time." At a raised eyebrow from his partner, the hobbit sighed. "Alright, alright, it's stupid. But … I just want to be there for you when you need someone to rely upon."

"Bilbo, I am relying on you. Still, I hoped that sharing this burden with my family would make things easier on you."

"Is that why you talked to them?" Bilbo looked up questioningly. "To make things easier on me?" When his husband nodded, he closed his eyes as if in pain. "Oh, Thorin. When did I give you the impression that you were burdening me?"

"You cried," Thorin reminded him. "In the tub, you only broke a flagon of oil, yet you were devastated. I knew then that I couldn't go on like that: clinging to you because you make me feel safe. Being able to see you at any given time confirms that this is not a dream and that I won't wake up with these dreadful humans." Embarrassed of having admitted to such a weak mind, the dwarven prince turned his head and looked at the dying embers. It was late already, the sun had gone down and the fire would go out soon.

Bilbo's nearly inaudible words made him turn his face again.

"I dreamed of Fell Winter. Once I got better and was able to sleep unsupervised, I dreamed of them, my parents I mean. Waking up, not finding them was … it was like dying a little on the inside each morning. Those days I mostly stayed indoors, concentrated on my studies of faraway places and history passed long ago. The stories were the only thing that gave me peace." Smiling sadly at these memories, Bilbo looked up. "I could have never imagined that I had my own fairy tale coming; one where a prince would sweep me off my feet and we would live in his kingdom."

Unwilling to let go of the subject, since this was the first time his hobbit had talked about his parents and the consequences of their death, Thorin wanted to know, "What changed?"

Sighing, Bilbo recalled. "The next winter came and went. It was a really mild one, a lot of snow but no blizzards. Nobody died and when spring came I looked at my neglected garden and remembered how much dad had loved it. I had not done anything the previous year and it showed. So I started weeding. Then I needed tools. Then I needed seeds. One thing led to another.

"Whenever I was at the marketplace a friend invited me into his home. It would have been rude to decline so I followed their invitations. With time it got … well, not easier, but a little better. I still missed … miss them terribly. But mum would be so proud could she see me here with you, and dad would assure me that this is where I belong."

"Why? You're amongst dwarves, a race that could not be more different from hobbits."

Bilbo smiled softly because that answer was so very easy. "Because I'm happy here."

Quietly, Thorin reminded him, "You did not sound happy when I woke you just now."

"That is true. But it was only a nightmare." The hobbit snuggled into his husband once again. "This, right here, with you, that's exactly where I am meant to be. And no matter if my parents are in the Shire or walk Yavanna's endless fields, I know they are happy for me since I have found my place in life where I can do the most good."

 

Kissing his husband lovingly, Thorin revelled in the feeling of them being so close and affectionate for a while, before he asked, "Your dream, what was it about?"

"You." Bilbo whispered quietly and it took him a while to continue. "It's the same dream every other night. I'm searching for you and when I find you in the woods you vanish into thin air, before I can reach you. I see you in the water but the moment I touch you, you dissolve as if you are nothing but a reflection and the last time you …" Fighting down his emotions, Bilbo took a few moments before he revealed, "I had this dream for the first time before we turned towards the village where we found you. I knew that we had to hurry and seeing you there … I was about to draw my weapon and attack these slave traders single-handed. But Bofur and Dwalin restrained me. We got you back that day but … haggling with these humans, putting a price on your head was the hardest thing I have ever done."

They were back to that day, and once again Thorin asked himself if he wanted to hear the answer to the question he had to ask sooner or later. Bilbo was a hobbit, nobody had the right to teach him. "That sentence … the one that brought me to my knees." Taking a deep breath, he decided to simply go for it, consequences be damned. "Which one of our friends taught you?"

Bilbo had wondered when that particular subject would come up. His friends simply were accepting of him speaking their language, but Thorin was the royal heir, honour bound to preserve their ways and traditions. Well, protect this particular one would be easy. "Nobody."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to worry, my love. None of our friends betrayed your people by teaching me Khuzdul. But I might have received a history book written in Khuzdul for our wedding and it's possible that I found a translation chart for runes into sounds at the library. Apart from that … I learned and listened. It's not that complicated after all."

Completely baffled, Thorin looked at his husband. "You are telling me that you taught yourself how to read and write the language of my people?"

"Our people, Thorin." Bilbo corrected him. "And don't you think that it would be a little strange for the royal consort not to understand what is spoken around him?"

Groaning the prince sank back into the pillow. "You understood every word, when these vile merchants were badmouthing you during the last council session."

Looking up Thorin's warm body, resting his chin on folded hands, Bilbo confirmed, "Every single one. I was not sure with one in particular, but Bifur helped me afterwards. Still, I can't comprehend why 'earth digger' would be an insult. But I guess Lord Elrond was right when he started my Sindarin lessons two decades ago: knowing a word does not mean that you comprehend the meaning."

"This could lead to a lot of trouble, Bilbo."

"That's why I kept it to myself. There is enough opposition against a hobbit consort already. I don't want to add to that."

Relieved, Thorin nodded and they finally got up. They had missed tea, supper and dinner after all. All of a sudden a thought came to the dwarf's mind and his cheeks flamed up. "You also understand me when I am cursing, don't you?"

Wrapping his arms around his lover, Bilbo grinned mischievously, "And when you are in the throes of passion. These times are exceptionally educational."

With a groan the dwarf hid his face. "I'm never going to live that down."

Laughing while pulling Thorin's hands down, Bilbo rose to his toes and kissed his husband adoringly. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Now, tea or wine. It's an hour to midnight after all."

~ ♥ ~

They decided on wine, cold meat, pickled vegetables and cheese with bread that had just been slightly roasted since they had no patience for cooking. They were content watching the stars coming up, that reflected in the mirror over the fireplace. It was good, but not like it had been two nights ago where they had been sitting on the garden bench. Thorin realized how much he had gotten used to the open architecture of the hobbits whose whole life constantly spilled out of their smials and into their gardens, fields and meadows.

Sleep was not as restful as it had been before and when Thorin lay awake after his own nightmare, he decided to ask Fíli and Kíli about the home they were building for Bilbo. The dwarf was sure that he, that both of them, would rest easier if they lived in a proper smial again.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I can't do this, Nori. This isn't me!"  
> "We've been over this, Bilbo. If you want to keep your family safe this has to be you!"  
> Leaving the inner mountain, walking the valleys, a familiar discussion repeated itself. Nori had thought that he had been able to make Bilbo understand why shaping him into a fighter was necessary. Yet over the duration of the summer, while not much of his skill, a lot of his determination seemed to have diminished. How could he make their little friend comprehend that there really was no other possibility of ensuring his safety? Being noble and honest wouldn't help him in a situation where someone was out for his blood and the mere idea of anybody cutting Bilbo open nearly made Nori break out in cold sweat.


	7. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stop holding back, Bilbo. You can do better than this! Do you really want to lose your family to a fair fight?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm on holiday, my mood is stellar and Redone really is a fast beta. So, for your entertainment, a chapter out of schedule. I will still post on Friday. At the end of this chapter, you will understand why :).

The next morning, Bilbo and Thorin woke just in time for first breakfast. Content to just sip their tea and nibble on some fruits for a while, they took their time to come alive before Bilbo shared his plans for the day. "I want to go back to my book, so I can finish as much of it as possible before second breakfast."

Gathering the dishes, Thorin offered, "If this is urgent, let me handle cleaning and second breakfast. That will give you more time for your writing."

"Would you?" The equally hopeful and eager look of his little scholar made the dwarf laugh and kiss the curly head. "Once upon a time I was sent to a far-away place to serve and obey. My little master taught me of the importance of second breakfast and how to make an exceptional ham and cheese omelette. Amongst other things." Wiggling his eyebrows, Thorin captured Bilbo's lips when the hobbit sputtered. "And omelette usually does not involve cucumbers, so we should be safe. Now go and take care of your book while I take care of your kitchen."

Bilbo did not like to remember the Durins' first weeks in the Shire, mostly because they had not been truthful at the time. Still, sometimes a few, peculiar memories came up to bother him. "You knew about the demands of marriage right from the start. All these presents you gave me, the bracelet, the plate, the pan and the knives. Those were courting gifts?"

"No, Bilbo." Thorin approached him and reached for his braids, holding out the cheap copper beads he had made in the Shire as well as the wooden one Bilbo had carved for him. Even here in the Blue Mountains where silver, gold and bejewelled beads were available, both still valued these above all else. "Those were the first courting gifts we exchanged. The tools before them were mere presents because I liked to see you smile. It was quite addictive to see you happy."

Bilbo's smile could not have been any brighter. He practically beamed with joy until his husband, slightly embarrassed of how much this meant to his little hobbit, pushed him out of the kitchen. "Go to your books."

But Bilbo could see his own happiness mirrored in his beloved's eyes. He couldn't say why, but he was relieved to hear that Thorin had not had an ulterior motive when creating his presents in the first place. That selflessness made them all the more valuable in Bilbo's eyes. They were not through with their current crisis, but they would make it, because they had what their hearts desired the most: each other.

~ ♥ ~

After second breakfast, the prince left for the training grounds and Bilbo gave him a head start before putting on his armour. His teacher would want him to be ready to go when he arrived. At a quarter past nine there was a knock on the door of his dressing chamber. "Come in please."

"Your royal highness." Nori bowed deeply, since he felt entitled to a little revenge.

The hobbit sighed. "Are you punishing me because I had Ori call for you yesterday, or because I have not made time for you these last three weeks?"

 "Yes," was the dwarf's unhelpful reply, but after a moment he added. "Also, you insisted on using the training area, being fully aware that Dwalin and Thorin are there. You learning how to defend yourself and those you care for is serious, Bilbo. You should not use our lessons as an excuse to keep an eye on your husband!"

Admitting defeat, the hobbit sagged. "Is there anything going on in this mountain you don't know about?"

"No."

"He had a split lip yesterday! And you should see his back. He looks like a herd of ponies trampled over him!"

"So go and spy on him." Nori shrugged. "You are small and sneaky. You know enough of this mountain by now to go undetected. But if you call upon me for training, I will put you through the motions until you can barely walk. Just out of spite. Because you have neglected your exercises for so long. It's your choice, Bilbo. But don't expect me to go easy on you. That's not my style."

Reaching for his arm-guards, Bilbo nodded and put them on. His friend was right, of course. It was a dangerous world he was living in. It was high time for him to remember that and prepare accordingly.

~ ♥ ~

When Bilbo and Nori arrived they noticed that Dwalin and Thorin were fully emerged in their lesson. Jogging through half the kingdom had served as a warm-up. Still, the auburn-haired dwarf had his pupil do stretching exercises to be able to judge his mobility. It was hard to determine who was more of a distraction to the new recruits: their prince fighting their trainer or the royal consort.

The same was true for the wedded pair. Mostly Bilbo's attention was on Thorin and vice versa. Their respective trainers however would have none of that. Nori solved that particular dilemma by pulling a formerly hidden blade on the hobbit. Luckily Bilbo was swift or that move would have cost him a lock of hair or worse. Thorin instantly tried to come over, but was held back by Dwalin who had picked on Nori's change of tactics of occupying their trainees' entire concentration to find out how they would prioritize. The bald warrior started attacking as well, demanding his prince's attention.

Pulling his own weapon, Bilbo accused his trainer, "That was unfair!" while defending himself.

Forcing him to retreat, Nori sneered, "Though luck, your royal highness. You're not in the Shire any more with your weak, tree hugging, grass smoking halflings!"

Thorin's angry cry on behalf of his husband was drowned by the outrageous shout of the hobbit. Furiously, Bilbo started his counter-attack, forcing out from between clenched teeth. "We are not tree-huggers!" Swift attacks with his beautiful dagger made Nori adapt his stance. "We smoke a weed that's very hard to grow!" He was not strong, never would be, but the dwarf was quite pleased to notice that Bilbo used his size to his advantage, just like Nori had taught him last winter. "We are not half of anything!" Kicking back his opponent, Bilbo threw one of his blades at Dwalin so that he had to pull back instead of attacking Thorin from the side, since the other dwarf had lost his footing after a particularly vicious attack. Nori however used that moment of inattentiveness to circle his prey and jump him from behind. His arm closed around Bilbo's neck, yet before he could bring up his weapon, he felt the tip of a blade digging into his stomach. Stalemate.

"And," the hobbit finished in a much calmer voice, "we are not weak."

Slowly relaxing his arm, indicating that their fight was over, Nori stepped back. Breathless silence had befallen the ring. Everybody seemed to wait for the trainers' judgement. "No, you are not. You are level-headed even when angered during a fight. You are fast and you use any given advantage. That's good. But in the end I could best you because you made the wrong decision. You must never neglect your defence, Bilbo. Doing so could kill you."

Catching his breath, Bilbo sheathed his weapon after Thorin and Dwalin had relaxed as well. He shook his head resolutely. "No, I did not. Thorin's wellbeing will always take priority over mine."

Immediately the dwarven prince protested, "Love, you can't!"

This time however, it was Dwalin who interrupted him. "Nori?" After a wordless conversation that flew right over the spouses' heads, the auburn-haired dwarf nodded and instructed, "We'll switch. Dwalin will take Bilbo and I will take on Thorin." They didn't allow time to protest but started to attack once again.

Despite coming from completely different worlds, defending each other back to back worked. Bilbo and Thorin's fighting style could not be more different, and yet fighting as a pair, they were able to stand their ground. Thorin defended their position, kept his husband safe by occupying their opponents with sharp and swift slashes. Bilbo chased them since he was the swifter fighter. They were both new to this and though the prince had fought at the side of many of his kin, a hobbit was different and not only in size; but their desire to keep each other from harm made them work together quite well. It was not perfect, mind you, especially with Bilbo's shorter range, but something to start with.

"Stop holding back, Bilbo. You can do better than this! Do you really want to lose your family to a fair fight?"

"No!" The hobbit hissed. Thorin had Nori confined, so Bilbo twisted out from beneath Dwalin's swing and swiftly cut open the dwarf's belt, hobbling the warrior with his own trousers. A kick to the back of his knees had him toppling down and before Dwalin could orient himself, Bilbo had his blade at his neck. "But I won't cheat in a fight with friends. There's a difference!"

Yielding, Nori asked, "Then what would you call the way you bested Dwalin just now?"

"I didn't defeat him!" The hobbit argued, still unmoving because he didn't trust his friend not to pick up his hammer anew. "I just made him stop fighting."

Equally embarrassed to be found with his pants down and proud at Bilbo for winning, the tattooed warrior wanted to know, "Then what would you call a win?"

"My enemy lying on the floor in his own blood!" The hobbit's words were vicious and all three could easily imagine what enemy he had in mind.

Calmly, not moving an inch since Bilbo still held his blade in a vice-like grip, Dwalin stated, "Move your blade a hair's width and you will have that."

Pulling back in shock, instantly releasing his dagger, Bilbo shook his head distressed. "No … that's not me. I'm a hobbit. We cherish all things living. We don't bring death. I can't …"

"Love, hush," Thorin comforted, pulling a shivering Bilbo into a tight embrace. "Dwalin does not even have a scratch. At least not from you."

Bilbo clutched his husband's armour, tried to regain his composure while the bold warrior left to replace his ruined clothes.

As soon as Dwalin was back, properly attired once again, the hobbit stepped back and urged his partner towards his guard. "You got hurt again. Go, train harder, I …"

Since Bilbo seemed at loss of what to do, Nori stepped in. "We'll go outside for a little while. Sunlight and a fresh breeze will do us good."

Kissing his husband's forehead, Thorin nodded and nudged him towards the exit before returning to Dwalin's side.

The tattooed warrior had turned towards the young dwarves in the meantime, inquiring. "Alright, what did you learn?"

"To go for the clothes?"

"To fight as a team?"

"That everything goes as long as you win?"

Not wrong but not what Dwalin had been going for. He was afraid that rumours of him losing his trousers to the royal consort would travel the mountain like wildfire. Still, for now he had to concentrate on training the next generation of guards and warriors for their people.

He was surprised to find Gloin's son standing at the end of the group, tentatively raising his hand. Technically he was too young for this kind of training, but his father seemed willing to humour him. Serving as personal guard for the princess had its perks now and then. "Yes, Gimli?"

"To find your strengths and play at them. Bil… I mean his royal highness is smaller than you, Master Dwalin, and he is faster. He used that to his advantage and outmanoeuvred you in a way you weren't expecting and therefore not prepared for."

Dwalin's brief nod made the young dwarf smile proudly. "Alright, everybody, let's try a different approach today. Everything goes, just find out where your strength lies and try to bring Thorin or me to our knees."

An impossible task, the dwarves would have said half an hour ago. But having seen the small consort doing just that gave them hope. Gripping their weapons tighter, one after another attacked.

Needless to say, not one of them succeeded. They were no hobbits after all.

~ ♥ ~

"I can't do this, Nori. This isn't me!"

"We've been over this, Bilbo. If you want to keep your family safe, it has to be you!"

They were leaving the inner mountain, walking the valleys, while a familiar discussion repeated itself. Nori had thought that he had been able to make Bilbo understand why shaping him into a fighter was necessary. Over the duration of the summer, however, while not much of his skill, a lot of his determination seemed to have vanished. How could he make their little friend comprehend that there really was no other possibility of ensuring his safety? Being noble and honest wouldn't help him in a situation where someone was out for his blood and the mere idea of anybody cutting Bilbo open nearly made Nori break out in cold sweat.

"No," Bilbo whispered. "I don’t want to be this blood-thirsty creature that basks in the defeat of his enemies!"

"You didn't draw blood today."

"But I wanted to! Had my opponent not been Dwalin but … I think I wanted to cut one particular throat or the other and revel in them bleeding out at my feet."

Subconsciously, Bilbo had directed his steps towards the Raven Valley. But even claiming his usual place in the small cave, looking at the glittering walls of his sanctum that reflected the sunlight most beautifully, he couldn't find peace. Even the ravens kept their distance. Maybe Nori standing at the cave's mouth had something to do with it.

Both followed their own thoughts until the dwarf asked, "You regret me holding you back that day?" He liked Bilbo so very much, wanted to do what was best for him, always had, always would, ever since he had overheard that cursed agreement their hobbit had made with his cousin. The idea that he had made a wrong decision on his behalf, had caused him grief, didn't sit well with Nori.

"Yes!" Bilbo spat out, only to shake his head a few moments later, burying his fingers in his copper locks. "No … I don't know, Nori. I know you had my best interests at heart, but the knowledge that they are still out there haunts me. I just … ever since all this began, ever since that cursed letter, everything has been so complicated. It's one crisis after another. Sometimes I feel like there is barely time for me to catch my breath."

 

A part of Nori wanted to call Bilbo spoiled and soft, tell him that he didn't know true suffering. Not knowing where to turn to find the next meal for your family. Being constantly afraid that the people you loved most were in danger, starving, defenceless in a world that cared naught for them.

The hobbit had had a sheltered life instead of having his home burned out from beneath him. He had not fought in a desperate battle for a new one, only to be defeated, helpless while seeing family and friends fall to orcish weapons.

But then, maybe Nori and his brothers would not have to suffer such hardships either, if dwarves had been content with good food, pipe weed and their gardens instead of gathering jewels and hoarding gold. Smaug would never come to the Shire, simply because hobbits had nothing he valued. They had created this little paradise for themselves, where the worst thing that happened was a family feud, being content with what they had. It was wrong to begrudge them that. Only … that was not the reality of the Shire.

The hobbits knew loss and heartache. Knew nature turning against them. Fate had pushed Bilbo down but he had always fought his way back up. He had lost his family and though he had despaired, he had worked his way back into the light. He had been lied to by strangers, but had helped them nevertheless. He had been confronted with starving people who were not even of his own race, and had sold his own home to find a solution. He had been relocated, far away from everything he had known, and had tried to make a home for himself and his new husband in these mountains. He had lost family and friends too, but instead of becoming hard and bitter like some of the dwarves Nori knew, he had remained compassionate and adapted in a way the spymaster would have thought impossible for anybody.

Bilbo Baggins had a core of mithril and a heart of equal value. The dwarf secretly suspected that he would face a dragon, should Thorin need him to. Knowing their sneaky little hobbit, Bilbo would maybe even come out on top. So no, the royal consort was neither soft nor spoiled and most certainly not weak. But one question remained.

 

"So what do you want? If all this is too much for you, what do you want instead, Bilbo?"

Looking at the ravens, who were watching him attentively as always but for once kept their distance, he admitted quietly, "I just want for Thorin to be happy."

With a soft smile, Nori briefly touched the hobbit's shoulder. "Happiness is for children, Bilbo."

"Then I want him to at least be safe."

"That's easy," the dwarf shrugged. "Take him and return to the Shire."

Glaring at Nori, Bilbo shook his head. "I can't just pack up, take his hand and return to Hobbiton."

"Sure you can. You remember the contract you signed on your wedding day?" When the hobbit nodded – because honestly, with the hours he had used deciphering that particular document, how could he ever forget – the dwarf informed him, "Though Ori translated most of it, you don't know all the terms of your marriage. Thorin added a few paragraphs and forbade us to tell you."

"Like what?" Anger bristled up in Bilbo at the thought that Thorin had kept yet another secret from him.

Nori seemed unfazed by this agitation. "For example that you are to decide where the two of you take refuge. You want to return to the Shire? You are well within your rights to leave."

Swallowing around a knot in his throat, Bilbo demanded to know, "What else?"

"Well, let's see if I remember this. Oh, you are now officially Fíli and Kíli's uncle and guardian. Should anything happen to Dís and Thorin, parental rights will go to you until they are eighty.

"What?"

"Oh," Nori grinned. "And all decisions concerning your succession and possible offspring are made by you. You may consult your husband, but everything concerning inheritance and children, adopted are yours to make."

"Why would he do that?" Bilbo whispered. "He more or less puts himself at my mercy."

"Bilbo, Thorin, all of us in fact, have been at your mercy since the day your grandfather decided to place the final judgement in your hands. Your decisions meant life or death for our people. Still do, because in the end our farmers will bow to anything you say. I'm aware it's a lot, but you are the royal consort. Our lives, our death, everything rests on your shoulders as much as on Thorin's, Dís's and Thrain's. The only difference is, you can just pack up and leave. If this is really too much for you, you can turn your back and be done with it.

"So I will ask you one last time, Bilbo: What do you want?"

This was too much, far too much for a simple hobbit. Trembling slightly, Bilbo pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them really tight. He squeezed his eyes shut as if he could block everything out for just a few blessed moments. A heavy bird landing, balancing on his shoulder didn't make him raise his head – not even when the bird started to groom him.

After a while, though, he mumbled, "You stealing one of my beads will make me very cross with you, Vár," entirely avoiding answering this very important question.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "That was cruel," his beloved dwarf mumbled into Bilbo's neck.  
> "Your punishment for keeping yet another secret," the hobbit whispered, ...


	8. Returning to the Shire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If leaving is really what you want, go. You have gold, both of you. With enough funding I'm sure you could find a nice smial with a cute little garden. Thorin can return to the forge and make rakes and pots and knives all day. And you can have your happily ever after, far away from politics and guilds and power play. Nothing to worry about but your food, your garden and your pipe weed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the second part of the chapter from Wednesday.

An innocent clink of gold on stone made Bilbo finally look up. His raven friend continued to groom him until he pulled his braids away from her.

"You leaving flock?" The raveness demanded to know when he finally looked up.

"I can't." Bilbo sighed. "I want to," he admitted then, only to sigh tiredly. "I don't know."

"If leaving is really what you want, go. You have gold, both of you. With enough funding I'm sure you could find a nice smial with a cute little garden. Thorin can return to the forge and make rakes and pots and knives all day. And you can have your happily ever after, far away from politics and guilds and power play. Nothing to worry about but your food, your garden and your pipe weed."

Why did it sound so ridiculous when Nori described the lives Bilbo and Thorin had enjoyed in Hobbiton these last two summers? There were people here suited far better for this life than him. They had managed without him before! Only … they had not. The inhabitants of the Blue Mountains had starved and become sick. Some of them had even died. "I thought you said that happiness is for children."

"It is, if it's your only goal. Life can be hard and unfair. It can take from you what you treasure the most. You know that as much as anyone of us."

A painful tug on his hair reminded Bilbo that Vár liked neither being ignored nor being left out. "You leave flock, hatchlings sad. You good carer."

"Yea …," Bilbo admitted roughly, finally understanding what had been wrong with the picture Nori had painted before. Even with Thorin by his side, they would be alone. Every other member of his new family would be here. "I would miss the hatchlings too."

Slowly reaching out, he caressed his winged friend's feathers. He would miss all of them; so very, very much. His voice was soft, barely carried beyond the place where they had taken refuge when he decided. "I want Thorin as safe and as content as possible. I guess if I can achieve that, happiness will come on its own."

 

Nodding because they were finally getting somewhere, Nori continued to probe. "And what do you want for yourself?"

"I don't know," Bilbo admitted. Looking around in the small valley that had become his refugee ever since coming to the Blue Mountains because it felt the most like home, he shrugged. "For things not to be so huge all the time, I guess. But that's not something we can change. Maybe I just have to accept that this is my life now and not compare it to how it was before."

Touching his friend's shoulder, instantly pulling back when Vár made an offending croak, the dwarf comforted, "Bilbo, you're an earth digger and I mean that in the best possible way. You loved your smial and your garden and you should not feel bad because you can't feel comfortable in a mountain, surrounded by stone."

"But that's exactly the point," Bilbo contradicted. "I love this mountain and my new family and you and your brothers and all the others who came to help me. I can't imagine returning to a life without all of you in it."

Not trying to suppress the smile that the warm feeling in his chest caused, Nori reminded him, "You have family in the Shire who love you very much and friends who – now that you are living far away from them – can be quite fearsome in their demands for you to be protected."

Smiling the hobbit shook his head. “But they are not like any of you. They don't need me as much. And why would you think my friends fearsome anyway?"

"Because I was threatened by no less than three of them, on your wedding day," Nori explained in a dry tone. "And I was not the only one. Apparently, only Fíli and Kíli were spared, since the thain and his wife already took care of that when they departed from the Shire last year."

Barking out a laughter of disbelief, Bilbo shook his head. "Let me get this straight: my friends, the soft and weak hobbits of the Shire, tried intimidating a bunch of battle-hardened dwarves into taking care of me?"

"Some of their threats were quite creative," Nori nodded.

Snickering a little, Bilbo leaned back and looked over the soft hills in the glittering valley. "You must think me a child, whining over nothing when all of you had it so much worse."

Shaking his head, Nori replied softly, "There is no measure for the pain one can suffer. You lost your family. Had the man you love defiled and abducted. You gave up your home and left behind everything just to help a race you knew nothing about. You're a stranger to our habits and our customs and still you have taken it all like a raven takes to the sky. You care more about others than you care about yourself, a trait you share with very few, most of whom you now call family. So no, Bilbo, I most certainly not think you childish. Your courage rivals that of our best warriors and the rest you can learn. Like you learned a language that was never meant for your tongue."

Blushing at the unexpected compliments, Bilbo tried to brush them off. "I had help with Khuzdul."

"You’ll have help with the rest as well. You just have to ask for it."

Pondering for a while, the hobbit gently brushed off Vár before rising. "Let's go back. I still have work to do, but I would be grateful if you could make time for me tomorrow after second breakfast. I promise to try harder."

Confirming that, Nori opened his hand with the beads Vár had taken off. "I only have two."

"She only took two. It is more the principle of the thing with her. She knows how much I value these, because they belonged to Thorin's mother. Usually I bring treats for her and the flock. Taking them was her way of showing me that she didn't like me coming empty-handed."

Not even gracing that accusation with a comment, Vár took off and returned to her usual place on the mountain-side.

~ ♥ ~

It was a lucky coincidence that Bilbo wanted to peek into the library to fetch some more paper before returning to his chambers. That gave Nori the chance to talk to his little brother. Though Ori was almost always distracted when he was surrounded by books, he picked up on Nori needing him when his brother lingered.

"The smial, for Bilbo, how long until it is finished?"

Beaming brightly, the young dwarf shared, "About a month, tops. He should be able to move into his new home right at the beginning of the New Year."

Marring his lower lip with his teeth, Nori asked, "Can you do it faster?"

Knowing his brother, Ori couldn't help but ask, "Why? What's wrong with Bilbo?"

"Nothing is wrong with our hobbit!" Nori assured him immediately. "It's just, I think he might be happier if he was not surrounded by dwarven architecture all the time."

It hurt, but sometimes Ori had learned just to take Nori's words at their face value. He petted his brother's hand in an attempt to comfort him. His middle brother carried enough secrets as it was. "You're lying to me. But I'll see what I can do."

Ori had always been the baby of the family and both older brothers had been incredibly protective of him. But ever since the Shire he had grown, become more confident, prospered with every task he had been given. Especially the smial here had come along perfectly ever since he had taken charge of the reconstruction process. Hugging him, Nori touched their foreheads. There were very few people the spymaster trusted implicitly, but since last summer Ori definitely had made it to that list. He was indefinitely grateful for that.

"Please send Bifur to me when you see him at lunch," the young dwarf demanded.

Nori wanted to ask, but Ori's raised eyebrows made him swallow the question. He didn't share his information so he had no right to ask Ori about his plans. He had given his little brother a task. How Ori fulfilled it was really none of his business. So he hugged him tightly before he tilted his head. "As you wish."

~ ♥ ~

Though the miner was supposed to return to work after lunch, a brief trip to the library wouldn't hurt anybody. Bifur had sent Bofur ahead to tell the Master of Mines that he would be slightly delayed. He spotted Ori at a huge desk with tomes and papers scattered around him. As a miner Bifur had never given the scribe much thought, even when in his former occupation as a toy-maker he had seen him on occasion when Ori had still been a dwarfling. In the Shire he had learned to admire the beautiful pictures the young dwarf could make and the fierce determination that rivalled those of his brothers when it came to supporting and protecting their hobbit. So the battle-hardened dwarf looked at the young scribe and smiled. _> Ori, you wanted to see me?<_

_> Bifur!<_ The young dwarf beamed, abandoning his work. _> I have a favour to ask.<_

Surprised by that, Bifur gestured for him to continue. _> The smial, at the top of the mountain, can we speed up the work? Have it finished within a few days rather than weeks? I know the woodwork is done and now it needs painting and furnishing. Though Bilbo brought most equipment from the Shire, we have too few helpers to get it ready. So I was wondering, since you are at the school regularly, if you could maybe ask the lady dwarves for their help?<_

Looking at the young dwarf for a few moments, Ori already started fidgeting under the gaze, Bifur stated, _> Bilbo doesn't feel comfortable in the princess' former rooms.<_

Shrugging helplessly, the scribe admitted, _> I don't know. I guess? But you know Bilbo. He would never ask for anything if it was not absolutely necessary. Even if he felt uncomfortable.<_

_> I'll see what I can do.<_

Relieved, Ori sagged a little. _> Thank you, Master Bifur. I knew that I could count on you.<_

The same evening, the mothers of the youngest dwarflings decided to take a stroll in the inner valleys. Fresh air was said to be good for the little ones after all. And if their husbands and friends and other lady dwarves accompanied them … well, nobody would think anything about it. The more protection the children had, the better.

~ ♥ ~

Training with Bilbo by his side had been a new experience for Thorin. But not an unpleasant one, mind you. At lunch he and Dwalin discussed their training schedule. But soon thereafter his father called upon him. The royal family had to prepare for a visit from these cursed elves of the south, since Master Regin had informed the king that the books they had bought were most likely stolen. And while Thrain agreed with Bilbo's decision to tell them, he wasn't looking forward to hosting these creatures again. They came every few years anyway, complaining about their soil. As if that far away, the dwarrows of the Blue Mountains could influence that in any way!

So after going over the taxing preparations for their visit – Thorin had never realized how tiresome his father's animosity towards that first race was – the prince looked forward to a nice evening with his husband. Sadly, Bilbo was still caught up in the book he was intent on copying. That left the dwarf with very few options of how to spend his evening. Sending for the kitchen for some food, he tried to sort through the papers on his own desk, hiding away sketches of flowers and plants he had discovered in the Shire. He still had his heart set upon a jewellery collection for his beloved. Since the hobbit enjoyed vibrant colours, he planned to make up for the bleakness of the metal with inlays of colourful gems.

They would surely become a work of art if he ever got the time to actually make them. He knew Bilbo would love the design since he wore the brooch Master Andvari had gifted him the year before nearly every day. Thorin smiled to himself when Tamon arrived with supper and a roast with potatoes and vegetables that would make a lovely dinner. Luring Bilbo away from his desk with the prospect of food, the dwarf smiled when his hobbit started to wolf down his meal. "You really are determined to finish this translation before the elves come to ask their books back."

"Yes, well …" Remembering his manners, Bilbo slowed down and looked at Thorin apologetically. "These books are really useful. Having them would improve our understanding of the local plants greatly. It's just … there is so much to know and without a time-frame I want to translate as much as possible before I have to give them up. I don't even have time for the pictures, though they surely would help a great deal in identifying the plants."

"Why are you bothering with translation? You're fluent in Sindarin."

Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the lack of contempt in Thorin's voice. Him speaking the mother tongue of his husband seemed to go a long way in easing him of his hobbit's knowing other languages. "What use is a book only I can read?"

Shaking his head, Thorin gathered the dishes and put them into the sink. "That's not what I meant. You can translate them. But do it later. If you have little to no time, just copy them for now."

 

Picking up a towel to dry, Bilbo nodded, because that actually was a good idea. After a few moments of silence, the hobbit decided that this was as good of a time as any, to verify the information Nori had given him this afternoon.

"Thorin?" He started quietly. "I would like to return to the Shire."

Whipping around, the dwarf paled slightly and had to breathe though the icy fear that settled in his gut. He looked at his husband apprehensively and asked, "Alone?"

"Yes, just you and me."

Relaxing a tiny bit, Thorin returned to the dishes and nodded, despite the trepidation that still filled him. It was hard to supress the trembling in his fingers, but he didn't want to betray his inner turmoil. This was what his husband wanted and he was honour-bound to give in.

When Bilbo remarked, "But I'm afraid that the king won't let us leave," Thorin soothed him.

"Father has no choice in that matter. If you want us to leave, we leave."

Slowly putting down the towel, the hobbit looked at his dwarf. He noticed how ashen Thorin's face had become and how careful his motions. Clearly his beloved did not like the idea of them leaving one bit. Still he tried not to let it show. Not that Bilbo had believed Nori to deceive him, but …

"So it's true," he asked slowly. "You added stipulations to our wedding contract to give me … us, the chance to leave should I decide so."

At that revelation Thorin was finally able to swallow his unease, getting angry instead. "Who told you? I gave the order that nobody should share this with you. The decision where we live should be yours alone. Without any pressure from the outside!"

"If I didn't know that I have a choice, how was I supposed to make that decision?" Bilbo asked somewhat irritated.

Finally turning towards his husband, the dwarf touched his face tenderly. "I hoped that you would tell my without further incentive if you were not happy here. The contract merely was supposed to insure that your decision could not be contradicted."

Leaning into the caress, Bilbo wanted to know, "Is it really **that** important what I want?" Turning away, face closing off because this was all too much, the dwarf was held back by his husband. "Thorin, please, tell me the truth. If I chose the Shire would you really relocate that easy?"

"If that's what you want," The prince stated quietly, trying to force away the dread of leaving his family and duties.

Yet he obviously did a poor job, because Bilbo seemed to see right through him, since now it was his hobbit's turn to leave the kitchen, busying himself with stuffing his pipe in the living room to gain sanctuary from his erratic thoughts.

 Thorin followed and tried to calm him. He had made this decision more than a year ago. Now it was time to see it though, stay true to the promises he had made to himself and see to his husband's happiness. Still, his voice was so quiet it was barely audible when he said, "I thought returning to the Shire would make you happy. I didn't know that you had already sold your home by then. But we will find a solution, I promise."

Sinking into his armchair, Bilbo rubbed his head because his husband seemed purposefully ignorant of the problem at hand. "The day you discovered that I had sold my smial, you said that me helping to create a new home for your … our people here, should not come at the cost of my own." Thorin nodded, because the memory of that particular fight had burned itself into his mind. "I recall that you were particularly bothered that I hadn't talked to you beforehand."

"Yes," the prince confirmed. "Because together we might have found another way!"

"Then why are you repeating my mistake?" The confused look of his husband told Bilbo that he wasn't making himself very clear. Rising from his chair, Bilbo approached and hugged a still visibly concerned Thorin. "This is our home we are talking about. A place where you and I should be happy. The location of it should be chosen by the both of us."

"But we would never come to an agreement. So I decided your opinion should be the one to tip the scale. You have already done so much for us. I wanted you to have the final word in the few things that only concerned our marriage."

"Like where we live? Who gets the boys? Who will inherit should something happen to either of us?" There was more, Bilbo suspected, but those were the key stipulations Thorin had added to their wedding contract according to Nori.

"To serve your happiness and obey your heart's desire," his dwarf reminded him. "That's what I tried to ensure."

He had not even known the true meaning of the hobbit's wedding vows when he had made these additions. Still, he had meant well. Tenderly caressing his lover's clammy face, Bilbo reminded him, "The vows go both ways, Thorin. How can I be happy when you are not? And why do you think that we would never come to an agreement?"

Thorin leaned into the contact and brushed his lips over Bilbo's wrist when it was close. "We both love our family and friends dearly. But they live two weeks apart. How could we?"

Heart clenching at the tender gesture, Bilbo whispered, "The boys, Dís and Thrain are my family too. You always seem to forget that. How could I ever leave them?"

Lost in their conversation, not knowing where this was going any longer, the dwarf asked, "But you just said you wanted to return to the Shire."

"I merely wanted to find out if I had been told the truth about the contract."

"So you don't want us to leave?"

Shaking his head, Bilbo huffed when his husband sagged against him, using his armchair to hold himself upright now that all tension seemed to leave Thorin's body.

"That was cruel," his beloved dwarf mumbled into Bilbo's neck.

"Your punishment for keeping yet another secret," the hobbit whispered, holding his husband close to calm him. How could he ever leave these mountains when he had such an amazing family and friends to support him? Even if they were not honest with him **all** the time.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "At the top of the mountain our prince is waiting for you, Master Baggins. If you would allow me, I will accompany you." Dori shared, holding the door open for Bilbo invitingly.


	9. Not Bag End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puzzled, the hobbit shook his head in lack of understanding. When he opened the box he found a beautiful iron wrought key. The handle was built like a flower and the end was shaped like a Westron 'T'. "I don't understand."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have all been so very patient. Thank you for that. I hope you will have a lot of fun with a chapter, that is a lot easier to understand now that Redone (my trusty beta) has worked her magic. I was really looking forward to writing and posting this. I hope you will like it as much as I do.

That same evening Thorin offered his help with the pictures of the elvish books. Since Bilbo knew his husband to be quite skilled with pencil and quill, he accepted gladly. As a consequence, their following nights contained few nightmares, since they slept very little. On the forenoon they trained for an hour before Bilbo met with either the king or Dís to attend a council meeting. Occasionally he met one of the guild masters he held the budget for. After a brief lunch with his husband, the hobbit dashed to the library. Bilbo did not get the chance to cook a single meal beyond second breakfast in all the time.

He would need at least two weeks to catch up with all the work he was neglecting right now, since books either wanted to be revised for the annual financial statement or copied. Furthermore, all the guilds, except the Merchants' Guild, wanted to show off the achievements they had made this year. Under any other circumstances, Bilbo would have been delighted to learn about them. But at the moment, he felt spread thin between what he had to do and what he wanted to do. The knowledge the elvish books contained were too valuable to dismiss.

When Bilbo and Thorin were alone, life got a little easier. The bad dreams had not vanished but talking about them helped to find rest easier afterwards. Still, though Bilbo now knew that staying in the mountains was a choice and no precondition to stay with his husband, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed now and then. He had not seen Fíli and Kíli the entire week and when the lady-dwarves requested his presence at Dori's teashop after a particular taxing day, he felt like hiding under the covers rather than socializing.

Still, it would have been very rude to decline their invitation, so shortly before dinner Bilbo bade his dwarf good bye and went to the marketplace. He did not notice Thorin looking after him with an excited smile, knocking on the boys' and Dís' door as soon as he was out of earshot.

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo had to admit that for the first time since his return to the mountain he really had fun with someone who was not family or a member of his immediate circle of friends. Nearly all the women he had gotten to know when they had helped him in the field last year were crammed into the tea-shop. When Dori served a particular intense blend of herbal tea, half a dozen excused themselves hastily. A mild camomile tea settled their excited stomachs and frazzled nerves when they returned. Observing his friends, it took Bilbo but a heartbeat to notice their condition. Once the realization had dawned, however, he had to clap his mouth shut to muffle his excited giggles.

With female hobbits, he would have known instantly. With lady-dwarves it had taken him more time. Still, no matter the race, the glow was always the same. "How many," he asked giddily, stopping Dori mid-step when the dwarf entered with yet another pot of tea. "How many of you are pregnant?"

The beautiful teapot shattered into a million pieces, when Dori lost his grip on the tray, as ten hands rose into the air. Ten pregnant females, no, twelve, since two felt too sick in the evenings to attend, had the silver-haired dwarf reeling. Never before in their entire time in the Blue Mountains had there been so many women expecting at the same time.

Squeaking with joy, something he would deny if asked, Bilbo hugged one after another, chattering excitedly. "I told you, healthy food, fresh air and lots of sunshine will do the trick! Oh, I'm so happy for you! But now we really should make plans for day-care."

"Day-care?"

"Yes," the hobbit nodded enthusiastically. "I know most of you put your jobs on hold when you have children. But with a day-care-system you can work for at least a few hours a day after the first year, if someone is available to look after your baby."

Instantly some of the women became defensive. So Bilbo took his time to explain childminders and play-dates to the astounded ladies. He understood that the concept of giving one's child away, to someone who was not family, seemed strange to these females who were protective by nature. Hobbit lasses trusted more easily because they knew without the shadow of doubt that a child was considered precious by every other hobbit of the Shire. Every hobbit would go any length to protect a child in need. No doubt about that in Bilbo's society. Dwarves were different since the mothers were the most protective of them all, rarely allowing an outsider to take care of their offspring. But after an hour, countless sandwiches and cakes, he had gotten his message across about how beneficial such a system would be for all of them. And none of them would have to worry about the details before the next year was over anyway.

The chatter was deafening at times. Now that the secret was out and the first excitement was over, Bilbo thought longingly of supper with his husband when Gloin's wife Gilla stepped forth. With a tender expression, as if she knew exactly how he felt, she presented him with a small box with a satin ribbon around it. "We know that our husbands, brothers, fathers and most other male dwarves who inhabit this mountain are really grateful for everything you have done for us. Not only here but in the Shire as well. You gave us courage to take fate into our own hands again and made the first step by relocating the fields. It was a bold move and must have cost you a lot. But it worked out in the end and nothing we will ever say or do will be enough to repay you."

When Bilbo tried to protest, Gilla merely raised her hand. "However, though it is far from finished, we wanted to give this to you. Many helped and will continue to do so until it is exactly what you need, but we came to the agreement that most of it is ready for you."

Puzzled, the hobbit shook his head in lack of understanding. When he opened the box he found a beautiful iron wrought key. The handle was built like a flower and the end was shaped like a Westron 'T'. "I don't understand."

"At the top of the mountain our prince is waiting for you, Master Baggins. If you would allow me, I will guide you." Dori held the door open for Bilbo invitingly.

"At the top of the mountain?" Slowly catching up with what this meant, the hobbit gapped at his friends unbelieving. Slowly, barely daring to hope, the hobbit made his way up. Well, he started slowly but in the end he flew up the stairs, Dori hot on his heels.

At the very top was a blue, circular door waiting for Bilbo, but no Thorin. The hobbit knew that this door had not been there a week ago and could not help but gap at it in awe. It was painted in the colours of the Durin-line. Intricate metal fittings, woven like the braids of the royal family, held its hinges and a beautiful plate in the middle was engraved with the rune Bilbo wore on his wrist.

Shivering all over, the hobbit just stood there until Dori nudged him. "Don't you want to go inside?"

Looking at the key in his hand, Bilbo nodded jerkily and unlocked the door. The first room was a chamber with a round table in the middle and half a dozen chairs surrounding it. In every corner stood another chair to be added if needed. There were long ventilation shafts at one side and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace facing them. The walls were dark and glittered and reflected the small fire, very much like the ones in Bilbo's current rooms. Slowly the hobbit stepped around the table and approached the next door. Hesitantly he opened it, excited and at the same time afraid of what he would find.

~ ♥ ~

The room beyond the first took his breath away. Just as he opened the door to his, **his** living room(!), Fíli was setting down his mother's glorybox, while Kíli was arranging a posy of wild-flowers in a vase on the windowsill. Looking up, he beamed and bowed deeply. "Welcome home, Master Boggins."

Fíli straightened with an equally bright smile. Even Dwalin turned around from having just placed Bilbo's filled cookie-jar on the mantelpiece.

The hobbit couldn't supress a sob when taking everything in. The former crude and uneven stone floor was covered with beautiful, highly polished wooden planks. The walls shone a blazing white and from the kitchen … by the Green Lady, the double doors that separated the kitchen from the living-room stood wide open and showed Bombur clattering his pots and stirring his pans.

If this was a dream, Bilbo didn't want to wake. Dazed, he entered, inhaling the delicious smells of his mother's favourite recipe – the first one he had taught Bombur the year before. There was another door opening into a pantry. Instead of a staircase a winding path led to a cool chamber where buckets of ice were already filled. As he stepped into the kitchen once again, Thorin approached him, taking Bilbo's hand, gently brushing away the tears the hobbit had not noticed falling.

Side by side, they explored the rest of the smial.

 

There was a study, bigger than the one in Bag End since it didn't hold one but two desks facing each other. Bookshelves were hewn into the stone. Ori and his auburn-haired brother were just now finishing filling them with Bilbo's books. Scrolls and maps were piled haphazardly on a shelf beneath a big window and the hobbit's papers were spread over his desk.

The bathing chamber was next. Here only a part of the floor was covered with wood. A huge basin was embedded in the stone floor on one side. Bilbo could even spot stairs leading down. It was not as big as the one between his and Thorin's room, but certainly at least twice the size of Bilbo's old tub in the Shire. Brand new pipes ran along the wall, both in the direction of the basin in the floor and towards two smaller basins at the side, where their toiletries had already been arranged. The sofa from downstairs had been brought up and stood against the wall facing the tub. Like in the library, shelves had been carved into the stone. Many of them were now filled with fluffy towels and one held an assortment of soaps and bathing oils. Upon closer inspection, Bilbo found a new vial with lavender oil and pressed it to his heart before putting it back. A huge fireplace at the end of the room acted both as ventilation and to keep the room at a comfortable temperature.

Thorin opened the door to a dressing chamber, similar to the one Oin and Gloin had used in Bag End. The two dwarves in question were standing before a wardrobe, filling it with Bilbo's clothes under Dís watchful eyes. The princess was caring for the hobbit's accessories, sorting them into prepared boxes so that they could be found easily.

Another room with two sofas and a log row of wardrobes and dressers was obviously meant to serve as Thorin's dressing room – at least if the clothes Bifur and Bofur were currently putting away were anything to go by. Balin was arranging his prince's jewellery into the topmost drawer of a dresser.

At the back of the smial were several rooms with tapestry covering their entrances. The dwarves shared reluctantly that not all rooms were finished yet. But Bilbo couldn't care less. Only two chambers remained waiting for inspection: a 'guest room' and the master bedroom. The guestroom was dominated by a huge double bed that was covered with furs and the quilt the hobbit had bought for Fíli and Kíli's bed in the Shire. Bilbo and Thorin's bedroom was situated on the left side of the round, green door that led to the mountain terrace. Next to the green door stood the glorybox and above the box were coat hangers, beside it was an iron-wrought umbrella stand, as it had been in Bag End.

 

The hobbit's hands had barely stopped trembling since the beginning of their inspection. Now his nerves finally got the better of him. Steadying his beloved, Thorin opened the last door and guided him through. The master bedroom certainly was bigger than the one in Bag End. But that seemed to be where the differences ended. Their bed stood at the right-hand side. A fireplace with two armchairs on the left. Over the mantle was a huge picture, painted directly onto the wall in the most vibrant colours. The painting showed the view from the top of the hill, where Bag End had been located.

There was a depiction of the town centre, the marketplace and, at the far side, the party tree. The whole representation seemed to be an ode to Yavanna with lush greens and colourful flowers. As if ready to finalize it, Thorin picked up the iron artwork Bilbo had bought a week prior to his dwarves' arrival. In the 'heaven' of the landscape, mirroring the position of the sun, was a hook. At a teary but radiant nod from his husband, the dwarf included the now highly polished name of his maker into the masterpiece.

 

Trembling with excitement, Bilbo turned around again to enter the living room once more. This smial was similar, so very similar to Bag End and yet entirely different at the same time. It contained everything a hobbit could ever wish for: a kitchen, two pantries, a study, a comfortable living-room and a state of the art bathroom, in addition to chambers for guests and clothes. All areas were filled with furniture brought from the Shire as well as new pieces in the same style.

Stroking the wood of a passage with the tip of his fingers, Bilbo stood in the middle of the living-room, watched by all of his friends, and took a deep breath. He could smell the flowers his boys obviously had made an effort to collect, and the plants from the shelf Thrain had given him last Christmas that now stood against the wall of his new lounge. The delicious food Bombur had cooked and the fresh, white paint that covered the walls, filled his senses. But most of all, he could smell the fresh wood that spread into every last corner. Looking up he spotted the chandelier his father had bought his mother during their last trip to Bree.

It was different because this smial had been built by dwarves who were used to working with stone, instead of burrowing into the earth to bend it to their whim. Walls and ceilings were slightly uneven where the mountain had not been ready to give, but all in all it was perfect. Gazing up, Bilbo jumped a little to touch the ceiling, smiling when he found his fingers smudged with white.

Slightly hesitant, Ori stepped forth. "If the rooms are too low for your liking we could lift them a little. But they are more or less the same height they were in Bag End. I measured them myself."

And that really was the last straw. Even during his first stay in the Shire, Ori had made sure that he had the means to recreate the hobbit's home here. Sobbing, no longer caring to hold back, Bilbo pulled him into a tight hug and whispered over and over. "Thank you. Thank you so very much!"

One dwarf after another was pulled close and cried upon. Yes, even Dís, until only the three Durins remained who had arrived at Bag End first. Drawing strength from Thorin who was hugging him from behind, Bilbo reached for the boys' hands. "When you told me about a smial in the mountains I imagined many things, but not this, never this, Fíli and Kíli. You managed what only my father had been able to do for my mother before. Not only did you build me a smial, you made me a home. You brought everything I cherished and found the perfect place for it."

When the boys traded a hopeful look, he smiled, "Yes, even your own room. What I said the day I found the letter still stands. In my smial you will always have a home. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I love you so very much."

Now it was the boys’ turn to cry. As they held on to their new uncle with Thorin covering them, the others could pretend ignorance at their princes' loss of composure. When Fíli and Kíli pulled back, Bilbo offered his handkerchief and turned to the chef. "Well, Master Bombur, would you say that supper is ready?"

"It certainly is, Master Baggins. And a fine first meal it will be to serve in your new home."

~ ♥ ~

Tables were moved and chairs collected because no matter how generous the dwarves had been with his kitchen, the room still was not big enough to host fourteen dwarves and one hobbit. Stretching through two rooms they created a long table, laden with delicious meals and savoury drinks.

So there was eating and laughter and music far into the night and the moon was already high in the sky when the company departed.

"No council sessions and no meetings with the king," Balin stated with Dwalin and Nori backing him up.

"No training sessions either."

"Take two days off and get comfortable in your new home."

Fíli and Kíli shared from behind their backs. "There will be no work done the next two days. When you return to your duties, so will we."

 

Hugging his friends and Dís on their way out, thanking them once again, Bilbo closed the blue door with a sigh. It didn't occur to him to lock it. Instead he hung the key, which he had kept in his pocket all evening, caressing it when nobody had been watching, beside its twin on a key holder that looked like a branch, right beside the door. Making sure that everything was in order, he returned to the kitchen where Thorin and the boys were taking care of the last of the dishes, sorting them into appropriate cupboards. Only one pot remained and though it should soak until tomorrow, Bilbo rolled up his sleeves and started scrubbing. He was far too excited to go to bed.

Smiling at his dwarves, he gestured towards the bedrooms. "Thank you for your help. You can go to bed already. I will go in a few moments." And though they had been given their leave, Thorin, Fíli and Kíli remained in the living-room. Waiting. Listening. Barely breathing.

 

Oblivious to his audience, Bilbo stood in his kitchen, enjoying the tranquillity, the crisp air and the moonlight that streamed through the open window. Humming to himself he cleaned the pot, dried it and put it away. Recalling a song his father had sung while cleaning, the hobbit wandered through his new kitchen. His dwarves had been good but not perfect. So with an easy tune on his lips, the hobbit started to re-arrange spices, sorted through vegetables and put herbs into the cupboards where he wanted to find them. He even danced a little around the room when repeating the chorus, no less than three times, quietly of course, since he didn't want to disturb his family.

When he finally left his new kitchen, he found Fíli and Kíli sitting on the floor in front of Thorin, leaning against his legs, holding on to each other. Tears were streaming down their cheeks but the overjoyed smiles on their faces made Bilbo refrain from asking what was wrong. When they rose to hug him before going to bed, he merely mirrored the gesture, but looked at his husband questioningly once they had left.

 

"Do you know how Fíli and Kíli became aware that you needed this? A smial, because no matter how grand our chambers, you would never be happy there?" When his husband shook his head, Thorin rose as well and caressed his husband's cheek. "You never sang."

Protesting, the hobbit gestured behind himself. "But I am always singing in the kitchen. I did it just now!"

Smiling, his dwarf revealed, "You never did in Dís'."

"I …" Interrupting himself, trying to remember, Bilbo sighed sadly and shook his head, admitting in a bare whisper, "No, I didn’t. Because it was not my kitchen. Not my home."

Nodding, Thorin touched their foreheads and kissed his husband as if he could brush away any lingering sorrow that way. "No matter how new, this is your kitchen, your smial. The boys are just happy that you have a home again. With ceilings at the correct height," he added as an afterthought and finally everything fell into place for Bilbo. "Nori! It was Nori who pushed the others into having me moving in early. He is the only one I told that everything in the mountain is just a tad too grand for me."

"What about this?" his husband made a wide gesture, enveloping their whole surroundings.

With a relaxed and happy smile, Thorin had not seen on his lover for quite some time now, Bilbo exhaled happily, "This is the perfect size."

Taking his dwarf's hand, the hobbit grinned mischievously. "Let's go to bed and find out if it's as comfortable as we remember. We have a whole weekend ahead of us. We have to be well rested to make the most of it."

What an excellent idea.

~ ♥ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly toppling from the bed with laughter, Bilbo only stayed on top of his husband because Thorin held him fast. "Oh yes, please, I can see it already. Dís, could you be a dear and please take care of my meeting with the Jewellers' Guild? I have to return to the Mountaintop and lift my husband so that we can shag against a cupboard."


	10. The Duties of a Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaking his head, Thorin touched Bilbo's face with gentleness that bordered on reverence. "You love waking up to the sun." Then, as if his own unease didn't matter in the slightest, he changed the topic, softly probing, "You looked sad just now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin are enjoying their first day in the new smial by christening the rooms. Not much is happening today, they just get a chance for happiness.

Sunshine warmed Bilbo's face. Not a small beam but a full ray was caressing his forehead and tickling his nose. The absence of Thorin's weight on his chest made him open his eyes and stare at the ceiling, where the sun was already painting patterns of light and darkness. For a heartbeat he frowned before relaxing with a barely there smile of pure joy. Turning his head, he found his husband watching him. "Are you alright, my love?"

With a shrug, Thorin admitted, "My usual nightmare woke me. But by the time I got rid of it, the sun was already coming up."

Concerned, surely his dwarf preferred a dark bedroom, the hobbit suggested, "I could get a small tapestry to cover the window. Block out the morning sun."

Shaking his head, Thorin touched Bilbo's face with gentleness that bordered on reverence. "You love waking up to the sun." Then, as if his own unease didn't matter in the slightest, he changed the topic, softly probing, "You looked sad just now."

The hobbit nodded. "The first moment after waking, I thought I was back in the Shire." When Thorin's face fell, Bilbo reached for his cheek and made him look up again. "But then I remembered that we are in the Blue Mountains, and that this is my new home, and that I never, ever have to give it up."

The relief was so overwhelming that the prince shuddered and burrowed his face in Bilbo's neck. He let the joyous laughter of his husband wash over him, since he was so very ticklish and for the first time since the hobbit's proposal, Thorin felt truly at peace. Coming to the Blue Mountains had cost Bilbo his family. However, in him his nephews and all the others his husband had found a new family that loved him just as much. Still, that did not make Bilbo miss his relatives in the Shire any less, but he would never be lonely.

The acquisition of the winter rye had come at the cost of his hobbit's home. And no matter how hard their family and friends had tried, this would never be Bag End. Still, yesterday had made obvious that Bilbo had accepted it as his own already. Thorin pondered that even though the royal consort had many responsibilities, Bilbo should be allowed time for himself. He could deal with his guild masters, support the royal family and help whoever approached him, but there ought to be enough time for him to cook or bake or take care of his new, extensive garden. His beloved had not been born into a life ruled by responsibilities and the prince was determined to give him at least a few hours a day to himself. Although he suspected that Bilbo would rather spend them with paperwork than with gardening. During winter there was little to be done outside, but that was alright. Come spring his hobbit would have a better grip on his responsibilities and with one task or another delegated, Bilbo surely could enjoy the things that made a hobbit's life worthwhile.

Giggling once again, when his husband rubbed his beard over Bilbo's sensitive neck, the hobbit pulled back. “You seem miles away, love. What are you thinking about?"

"That in two days' time, we will talk to my father and Dís, Balin and Master Kiron to establish a proper schedule for you. There will be times when you act as royal consort and times for Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. Helping to rule our people should not eat up all of your time."

At that truly enticing thought, Bilbo nudged his husband, "While that is an excellent idea, I think the same should apply to you. I know the throne is your birth-right, but you are married now. There should be times when you are allowed to be just Thorin, husband of Bilbo."

"Really," the dwarf inquired. "And as your husband, would I have duties to perform as well?"

"Oh, numerous duties in fact!" Bilbo explained, while twisting them around, until he sat on top of his husband. "There would be a lot of heavy lifting involved. Mostly me against a wall or a cupboard I guess. And grooming, since these braids don't keep themselves in order." He shook his head so that his beads caught the morning sun, making his husband smile. "Also a lot of sampling would be demanded of you. As a proper hobbit, I have to constantly improve my culinary skills and would need a second opinion on my dishes." Stretching out with a purr, grooming Thorin's beard, Bilbo stated with a serious air. "You see, it's a job with countless responsibilities. Do you feel up for it?"

Doing his best to hide his smile, Thorin knit his brows and pretended to think about it. "Well, this is a lot to ask. And as you said, I have my royal duties to keep in mind as well. But I think, with the support of my sister and father, I might be able to balance these tasks."

Nearly toppling from the bed with laughter, Bilbo only stayed on top of his husband because Thorin held him fast. "Oh yes, please, I can see it already. Dís, could you be a dear and please take care of my meeting with the Jewellers' Guild? I have to return to the Mountaintop and lift my husband so that we can shag against a cupboard."

Laughing out loud, the prince admitted, "Somehow I think I should find a more diplomatic phrasing."

Snuggling into the embrace, Bilbo snickered, "Like what?"

"Like, sister mine, could you please take care of this meeting with the guild? My husband needs help with some heavy lifting." He wiggled his eyebrows conspiratorially.

"Very diplomatic," the hobbit agreed. "A subtle phrasing, worthy of a future king."

For several moments the spouses shared kisses and caresses before Bilbo's stomach began to protest the lack of first breakfast. When Thorin tried to rise, his husband held on to him. "Don't, my sweet." The questioning gaze made the hobbit slide back onto the bed and snuggle into his dwarf. "This is the first morning in our new home and I want to see what the sunlight will touch before we rise."

Pleased to keep his hobbit in bed a little longer, Thorin offered his shoulder for Bilbo to lean against and both watched the morning rays wander over the ceiling. The beams caressed the painting and made its vibrant colours shine. The name of the maker gleamed for a few moments, before sun vanished behind a mountain peak. When Thorin looked down to see if Bilbo wanted to have breakfast now, he found his husband fast asleep again. Well, a little lie-in surely wouldn't hurt.

~ ♥ ~

Thorin found himself hugging a pillow when he woke the next time. When he looked up he saw Bilbo sneaking out of their bedroom. For a few moments the dwarf lingered, enjoying surroundings so similar to the Shire. The pillow he was embracing smelled faintly of his husband, leaving him content to wake up fully in his own time.

Taking his time with anything actually was the furthest thing from Bilbo's mind right now. At the moment he was shredding cheese for an omelette. The ham would have to be diced and the tomatoes sliced. The dough for scones still had to sit a little so that they would have fresh bread to go with the eggs he was about to prepare. Nuts … he still had to fetch nuts from his overflowing pantry and while he was at it, he picked a few fruits as well. A fruit salad would give him and his dwarves energy for the day. The teapot was already whistling and, oh, tealeaves, he had forgotten, a spoonful into the pot and then a little more for good measure. What now? Right, back to the scones!

Thorin couldn't help but smile when he watched Bilbo dash around in his kitchen like they were about to have a party. His hobbit seemed so absorbed in his tasks that he had not even noticed his husband until now. Content to watch his little hobbit in his element, the dwarf stood at the doorway, observing contently. Only when his husband picked up the tray with the scones and reached for his oven, Thorin intervened and barked, "Stop!"

Freezing mid-motion, Bilbo looked over his shoulder, giving the dwarf time to reach for a towel to open the oven for him, putting the tray inside. Looking from his husband to his unprotected hand he surely would have burned, the hobbit smiled absent-mindedly. "Thanks, I …"

Kissing his beloved's fingers, the prince suggested, "Why don't I prepare the omelette and you cut the fruits? I can see how excited you are to cook in a hobbit-sized kitchen again, but there is no need to hurry. I'm sure Fíli and Kíli will sleep for a little while longer."

Belying his words, the brothers shuffled into the kitchen still half asleep, barefoot and wrapped into blankets. Stepping out of their way, Bilbo grinned at his partner. "You were saying?"

"They're half asleep. That doesn't count!"

And actually the dwarves set aside a bowl of apples and a bunch of wildflowers from the windowsill and made themselves at home there. How a ledge, albeit a big one, could be more comfortable than their plush bed was a mystery to the hobbit, but within a few moments, both were fast asleep again. Obviously he could take it down a notch and relax since no resident of the smial would mind if breakfast would be served a little later.

Pulling Bilbo back against his chest, Thorin offered him a cup of tea and they took their time to admire their sleepy nephews. Thorin had never known them being happier than in the Shire. Now, a small part of this happiness shone through in their relaxed, happy faces. Barely remembering Erebor didn't make that much of a difference for them, the boys seemed to have just missed a place to call home. Thorin pondered if his and Dís’s reluctance of calling Ered Luin home had robbed his nephews of a refuge where they could feel really comfortable. Maybe it was time to let go of the old kingdom and start appreciating what they had here. With Bilbo's help it surely had become more than a temporary resistance full of hardship and neglect.

The sizzling of the eggs and the delicious smell of fresh scones woke Fíli and Kíli. At second breakfast they told Bilbo what he could expect of the unfinished parts of his new home.

~ ♥ ~

Since Fíli and Kíli had not been given leniency from their daily responsibilities, they left immediately after breakfast and though Thorin would have loved nothing better than to do some heavy lifting, he was able to read his husband by now. "You want to explore."

"The smial and maybe the garden?" Bilbo asked, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. With a chuckle Thorin made an inviting gesture. "After you, beloved."

 

As Bilbo had noticed yesterday, his new home was considerably bigger than his old one. The boys had told him a year ago that there were caves up here. Had these caves really been this big to begin with, or had his dwarves gotten carried away by shaping them to his liking?  After thinking about the finished rooms, the hobbit decided that he liked it, no matter what. Even though getting his numerous rooms warm might become a taxing task, he loved each and every one of them.

Two guestrooms with additional wardrobes were waiting to be furnished and the last room at the back might have floors and windows already, but not even the walls had been painted yet. Looking at the ceiling Bilbo realized who this chamber was supposed to host. No surprise that his dwarves had saved furnishing the room for the big folk for last. Also, the view from the windows was less than inviting, compared to the front, all mountainside and no greenery.

When leaving the unfinished chamber, he found but one last door left unopened. Sharing a puzzled look with his partner, Bilbo opened it and discovered a mountain ledge on the other side. Peeking out to explore, the hobbit took a few steps outside but stopped instantly when he heard Thorin hissing behind him.

Heeding the hobbit's wishes of not wearing boots inside, the dwarf had not considered that stone would be far less forgiving on his feet than wood. Immediately both returned inside and Bilbo helped Thorin to the kitchen where he could best inspect the damage. A sharp stone had sliced through the soft sole of his husband's right foot. Kneeling before him, cleaning the cut, the hobbit pondered, "We have to do something to protect your feet. We're not in the Shire anymore and I think the floors are considerably colder here than they were in Bag End."

"You don't feel the cold?" Thorin asked surprised, inspecting the sluggishly bleeding slash himself.

Shrugging, Bilbo dabbed away the blood gently, before applying a bandage. "Not at the soles of my feet. If there I have to walk in the snow it bothers me, but a cold floor … not really."

"I'll get used to it." The dwarf promised. He came from the stone after all. There was no way he would prove less resilient than a hobbit born from earth. "Bad things happen when dwarves wear boots in your home."

Kissing Thorin's ankle before releasing his foot, something that made the dwarf smile, Bilbo contradicted him. "That was one time! And actually I was not thinking about shoes but socks. Wouldn't that help with the cold?"

Considering it, the dwarf agreed, "It might."

"Stay," Bilbo instructed. "I'll fetch you a pair."

"Hm …" Thorin confirmed but as soon as the hobbit rose, the dwarf pulled him closer and nuzzled into the soft belly.

Groaning, carding his fingers through his lover's hair, Bilbo protested weakly. "But your sock!"

"Hm …" The dwarf repeated. In fact, he was entirely agreeable to his husband's plan. Just not now. For the first time since their departure from the Shire, both spouses felt entirely at ease – his nicked foot aside – so Thorin wanted to make the most of it. So feeble objections like, "I have to fetch them," while his lover actually seemed hesitant to pull back, were thwarted by, "If you take me on this very table, I won't need any socks."

Bilbo's sputtered, "But that is unsanitary!" lost a lot if its power when he did not even try to stop Thorin brushing his waistcoat off his shoulders and lifting the shirt so that he could kiss the adorable tummy. Slowly opening the laces of his hobbit's trousers, he promised, "I will scrub it afterwards." The last fraction of concern melted away, when the most important part of his lover's anatomy proved entirely on board with Thorin’s intentions. Gently he pushed Bilbo back on the table, trousers still only slightly open and sank to his knees in front of him. "See," he gleamed at his flustered lover, "No socks needed."

"Thorin!" Bilbo groaned helplessly, when his husband started to circle the head of his cock with the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, love?" He teased, looking up when he slowly inched down on the erected member. Small but strong hands sank into his hair and pulled him closer. Now both were groaning. Thorin simply loved it when his hobbit took charge. His whole body became eager, heat spreading through it. After his embarrassing first try he had learned how to please his husband. And when Bilbo's cock touched the back of his throat he had to press a hand to his groin to relieve the ache.

A breathless, "Thorin, please!" made him look up, still for two more heartbeats he stayed exactly where he was, enjoying the sight of his shivering lover above him. When he finally started to move, Bilbo couldn't swallow his shout. Oh yes, Thorin had come a long way since their first night. Skilfully he pleasured his husband and only when Bilbo's fingers in his hair bordered on becoming painful, did he aim for release. Curling around his kneeling lover, the hobbit squirted into Thorin’s waiting mouth, trembling so heavily that his dwarf had to hug him close so he would not fall. Though he was still painfully hard, Thorin couldn't supress the wide grin on his face. This was certainly the most fun he had ever had in a hobbit's kitchen.

Until now.

 

When Bilbo was back to himself, he started laughing so hard that he actually slipped to the floor. "You, my dear husband, have no sense of propriety!"

"Is that so," Thorin asked innocently, leaning closer to rub his bearded chin over the enticing neck in front of him. Squeaking, because he was so very ticklish, Bilbo confirmed, "Yes, it is. And I'm currently debating with myself if I should teach you some manners."

Sensing how playful Bilbo's mood was, Thorin pulled back and stretched out on the kitchen floor, knowing full well that in this position his thin shirt hid next to nothing without a coat. "That sounds like a challenging lesson. What would you have me do?"

Looking at Thorin calculating, Bilbo rose from the floor and put his clothes in order again. "Not like this," he decided when his dwarf showed no intention of rising as well, but continued sprawling on the floor. Not that he did not make an enticing picture, good enough to eat, or to eat from, or to decorate or … calling himself to order so that he would not get carried away, the hobbit gestured, "Get up and take off your clothes."

Doing as he was told, taking care that he remained in very close proximity, Thorin looked down heatedly. "Whatever you desire." He stripped out of his clothes incredibly slowly, giving his hobbit ample time to watch his fill. This close he felt both of their bodies tingle with want. Still, Bilbo didn't touch him. Oh, he was affected, very much so, his eyes were nearly black with desire and despite his restrained demeanour, there were red splotches on Bilbo's cheeks that betrayed his excitement.

Yet, when Thorin finally stood naked and leaking before him, Bilbo only put a single hand on his chest and they traded places. The table was now at the dwarf's back and still the hobbit executed more pressure. So Thorin slid onto it and slowly leaned back.

This position was similar to the one he had adopted during the public claiming. Bilbo's hand didn't leave his chest when Thorin worked through the memories. Things were different here. He was not in a huge cavern but in their cosy kitchen. His hands did not touch stone but polished wood. He was naked instead of being hidden away under silk; and the biggest difference: this was their home, his and Bilbo's and nobody had the right to be here right now.

So he was able to relax when his hobbit assured him quietly, "It's just us, my love. Nobody will be allowed to watch us ever again. I promise."

Closing his eyes, Thorin forced himself to become pliant by taking deep and even breaths. Just them. From now until forever.

To make sure that he had erased even the last shadow of doubt, the hobbit asked his lover, "Sweetheart, where are we?"

Smiling but not opening his eyes, inhaling the smells that were so uniquely hobbit, Thorin whispered, "Home."

The right answer brought Bilbo closer. The soft cloth of his trousers caressed Thorin's thighs and the barest touch of fingers on his skin made all hair on Thorin's body stand to attention. It was quite warm, so there was no need for Bilbo to hurry. He could take his time … a lot of time.

So the hobbit enjoyed caressing his husband's broad chest. He liked watching Thorin's arm twitch when he touched him oh so gently and he revelled in the barely suppressed groan when traveling lower. His lover was already arching into the touch instinctively so Bilbo leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his hip. His warm breath travelled over his dwarf's groin when he asked, "Do you want me to take you?"

When Thorin looked up, having gotten lost in sensation, the hobbit brushed along the outside of his leg and lifted it. He trailed butterfly kisses over the inside working his way down. With far more sensitive feet than hobbits, the dwarf groaned at these caresses and watched Bilbo with glassy eyes. Realizing that his husband was waiting for an answer, he stammered, "I …," unable to even recall the question.

Smiling lovingly, Bilbo sat Thorin's leg on his shoulder and let the fingers of his other hand ghost over his lover's backside. "Do you want me to prepare you, love, so that I can take you? Here, in the middle of our new kitchen?"

"Yes," Thorin moaned, arching back to get more of Bilbo's fingers. "By Mahal, yes, please!"

Gently lowering his husband's legs, Bilbo brushed over the broad torso until he reached the face to make his dwarf open his eyes again. "I'm just going to fetch the oil. Look at me, darling."

At Thorin’s dizzy nod, Bilbo crossed his kitchen and returned with a flask with an amber liquid. Uncorking it, the hobbit drizzled a generous amount over Thorin's groin. They would have to scrub the table later thoroughly. Spreading his husband's legs so that they lay over the long sides of the table, Bilbo trailed his fingers through the oil, enclosing the erection in front of him in a slick hand. Thorin's hiss only encouraged him, but after a few strokes Bilbo stopped. It would not do for this to be over before they had really begun.

Gently he started his preparations and he had Thorin trembling in no time. To ease the strain on the gorgeous, pliant body, Bilbo picked up his dwarf's legs again and put them over his shoulders. That he could now offer kisses and little nips to the two enticing ankles on either side of his face, was an added bonus. Thorin nearly brought him to his knees when he tried to move his pelvis, using Bilbo's shoulders as leverage. Yet a small bite into his uninjured foot told him what a bad idea that was.

Thorin was delirious with desire when his hobbit finally sank into him. He was clawing at the table, searching for something to hold on to, but the surface was too smooth and the upper edge too far away. When Bilbo gently pushed his legs towards his chest, the dwarf held on to his thighs. He was even more open like this, exposed in a way he had never experienced before. But the only person to see him like this was Bilbo, and that certainty was enough to dispel any reservations on his part. Thorin loved the forceful motions of his husband, egging him on to go faster, harder. Still, the dwarf was unable to reach completion.

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes and at his desperate, "Bilbo, please!" he felt a warm hand caressing his cheek all of a sudden. He had not even realized that his lover had shed his shirt at some point. All he could do at the moment was wrapping his legs around his hobbit's hips, pulling him even closer. His words were barely audible when he breathed, "Please."

Bilbo's soothing was like sunlight, chasing away the storm. "Hush … I've got you, Thorin. All you have to do is relax. Let go, my love, I've got you." Nimble fingers closed around his shaft and on Thorin's mighty exhale, his whole world exploded into white. Under his husband's ministrations his cock pumped gushes of sticky, white semen over his torso. A part of it even landed on the table beside him. He noticed his lover's orgasm at the edge of his mind. The feeling of Bilbo filling him just felt right. As if that, exactly here, exactly now, was what was supposed to happen all along.

Bilbo touched him, cleaned him and whispered adoring things into his ears until sentient thought returned to him. When Thorin tilted his head, his love was right there beside him, asking lovingly, "How do you feel?"

And in all honesty, there was really only one answer, "Happy."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the morning of the third day, Bilbo stifled a yawn, when shuffling into the kitchen, bleary eyed. He yelped when colliding with someone.  
> "Tea is on the table, your royal highness. Warm bread will be served momentarily."  
> "Tamon?"  
> "Good morning, Master Baggins."  
> Rubbing his eyes, he and Thorin had gone to bed late, the hobbit wondered. "What are you doing in my kitchen?"


	11. Schedules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting lost in thought, Bilbo tried a small smile when looking at his prince. "Not in the Shire anymore."  
> Kissing his consort's head, Thorin confirmed, "Not in the Shire anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. This chapter is mostly fluff with a little domestic economy on the side. But don't worry, Tamon has it covered ;).

The first day in their new home, they made love three more times, testing numerous surfaces, coming to the conclusion that both the smial and the furniture were products of exceptional craftsmanship. Just before bed, they enjoyed each other in the tub, still indecisive if they liked it or not, agreeing on more tests, just to make sure. Fíli and Kíli had not returned that evening, giving them time to enjoy their new surroundings.

Naturally, Thorin and Bilbo felt slightly guilty the next morning, to have spun their wheels the day before. In an unspoken agreement, they entered their study right after first breakfast. Since the hobbit had enjoyed cooking in his own kitchen so very much, dinner had gotten away from him a little. Therefore it was no surprise that it was closer to elevenses than second breakfast when Bilbo's stomach demanded another meal. Used to ignore a slight hunger by now – dwarves didn't have patience for seven meals a day – the royal consort continued to work through his papers. He kissed his husband absent-mindedly when Thorin placed a plate of fruit and cheese at his elbow. A pot of tea with two cups was placed on the slightly elevated and richly engraved shelf that separated their desks.

When Bilbo pushed back from his desk (more room to file his documents really was a blessing) he stretched, his back creaking. "I think we forgot about second breakfast."

Puzzling through a particular taxing document, Thorin gestured with his quill, without looking up. "You had elevenses about an hour ago and I put some chicken with potatoes into the oven. I think they might need stirring." When his husband didn't say anything, the dwarf looked up. Surely it was no problem that he had forgone the vegetables. Bilbo could prepare a nice salad after all. His hobbit however seemed amazed, looking at Thorin in wonder when he clarified, "You cooked!"

Lifting his eyebrows, the dwarf challenged his husband. "I lived in the Shire for about nine months in total by now. Don't act so surprised that some mannerism stuck!"

When Bilbo closed his eyes with an unreadable expression on his face, Thorin became concerned. Was he not supposed to cook? He had done so before. This time he had even taken a look at the cookbook ahead of starting on the rosemary chicken. Fortunately, the recipe was not that complicated. Also the hobbit had enjoyed the meals he had prepared in Bag End. But maybe things were different up here? Worried Thorin inquired, "Should I not have done that? Don't you like me using this kitchen?" Old insecurities of having irritated his husband made the dwarf tense. He wanted Bilbo's first day in their new home to be perfect. Why had he not asked permission before preparing the meal?

Noticing the concern in his husband's posture made the hobbit shake off his baffled amazement. Sure, eighteen months ago this … they … had started out of obligation. But now … Bilbo had been given a smial built exactly to his liking. He had married a husband who did everything he could think of to make him comfortable. Who had even learned how to cook! With a blinding smile, the hobbit captured said husband's face and kissed him lovingly. "I must have been a very, very good hobbit to deserve someone as remarkable as you!"

Relieved that Bilbo was happy with him, Thorin pulled his hobbit closer and chased his lips for another kiss. "A very good hobbit indeed. But now you should probably check on the chicken. Make sure that I did everything right." He couldn't help but smile when Bilbo stole one last kiss before dashing off.

 

"You put rosemary underneath as well, not just sprinkle it over the meat and the potatoes." Bilbo remarked when they sat at the table an hour later.

Confused Thorin looked up. "I saw Bombur doing it with caraway and a pork belly. I thought the herb doesn't matter and the taste will be richer when the flavour comes from all sides. Did I do something wrong?"

"Do you like how it tastes?"

Confused the dwarf took another bite. "Sure, I always liked this dish. That's why I chose it in the first place."

Smiling, Bilbo confirmed, "Then you did everything absolutely right."

"Even when I did not follow the recipe?"

Looking out of the window, remembering a century old discussion between hobbits, he shrugged. "To be perfectly honest, I don't know."

Gazing at his husband, Bilbo explained. "Whether you made a mistake tonight might depend heavily on who you ask. My mother was always adventurous, even in the kitchen. She experimented with dishes, leaving out one ingredient, adding another. A few times it came out really horrible. But most of the time it was pretty good. You remember the glazed deer I made the week before last?" Thorin nodded. The dish had been unusual but delicious, though he had craved a glass of wine afterwards. "My mum invented that. Dad on the other hand …" The hobbit chuckled. "Let's just say that my father was a respectable Baggins through and through. He always followed each recipe to the dot and though his meals were always really good, some of them even excellent, sometimes they lacked … something."

Listening attentively because his hobbit rarely spoke of Belladonna and Bungo, Thorin probed, "And what is your opinion on the matter? You didn't say."

Grinning mischievously, Bilbo admitted, "I consider my cookbooks more of a general guideline. Who knows what will be extraordinary if you don't experiment."

In mock outrage, the dwarf crossed his arms and glared at his husband. "Are you telling me that you are experimenting on me?"

"In more ways than one." Bilbo winked, taking their empty plates away.

~ ♥ ~

Since they had made such a dent into their workload before lunch, they took their time in the afternoon to enjoy the extent of their soon-to-be garden. Thorin tensed when Bilbo approached the ridge of the mountain and at one point simply pulled him back. "Please stop doing that. I feel very uneasy when you walk so close to the edge."

Appeasing his husband, the hobbit remained at the centre and started to sketch out the details of what he wanted to do come spring. It was windy up here but a stone wall that was already in the making, surrounding the perimeter would help with that. Trees however would help more. But they needed such a long time to grow. On the other hand, Bilbo had time, since he did not plan to go anywhere for the next decade or two. Bushes would work as a short-time solution and in the end, carrots and potatoes grew under the earth. They did not care for wind.

Wrapping around his hobbit, the dwarf inquired, "What are you planning, herbs, flowers or fruits?"

Bilbo tilted his head and grinned. "Vegetables."

"Well, you certainly have enough room for that."

"Yes, but I have to find a way to calm down the wind. Otherwise my seed might get carried away."

Admiring the view, even their fields could be seen from up here, Thorin pondered, "We could build little walls, hip high around the individual patches. Would that work?"

Lost in thought, Bilbo nodded. "It might."

 

For the rest of the day, the hobbit made one map after the other of how his garden was supposed to look. Luckily he used tools and toys, arranging them on the wide table in the living room. He would have wasted an awful lot of paper otherwise. Still, Thorin was happy to sketch the final decision, pinning it beside the green door, so they could see what they wanted to do with the garden next season.

~ ♥ ~

On the morning of the third day, Bilbo stifled a yawn, shuffling into the kitchen, bleary eyed. He yelped when colliding with someone.

"Tea is on the table, your royal highness. Warm bread will be served momentarily."

"Tamon?"

"Good morning, Master Baggins."

Rubbing his eyes, he and Thorin had gone to bed late, the hobbit wondered. "What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Serving first breakfast of course." The dwarf replied as if that couldn't be more obvious. "You didn't believe I would abandon my duties, just because you finally moved into your home?"

"No?" Honestly, Bilbo was too tired to hold a proper conversation. There was no way he was a match for Thorin's manservant who seemed completely at ease in his new surroundings. When his husband entered he looked at him for guidance but Thorin only kissed his head and reached for the cuppa his servant was offering. "Good morning, Tamon."

"Good morning, my Lord. Please take a seat. Which jam would you prefer?"

"Apricot, please."

Well, that was certainly enough. "Thorin!" Bilbo barked, startling his husband. "You can't have Tamon serving us!"

"Why not?" The prince asked confused. "That's his job after all. He takes care of the meals we can't prepare, for our clothes and accessories. He did so for two generations: my father and me."

"But …" the hobbit contradicted helplessly. Of course Tamon had served them while they had lived in the chambers below. He simply hadn't had time to take care of every meal, clean his bedding and carpets and tend to his clothes. But now …

Serving breakfast, the elderly dwarf asked, carefully neutral. "Am I not welcome here, your royal highness? If you wish me to leave I can do so immediately."

"No," Bilbo protested helplessly. "Of course you are welcome here. I just …"

Smiling contently, the dwarf bowed. "Excellent. I will return with your washed and pressed clothes in the afternoon. Also, until the stone has taken the heat, you might need more wood, maybe even coal for the fires. I will send someone up. Have a good day."

Nodding proudly at his servant who retreated with a smile, Thorin returned his attention to the delicious breakfast in front of him. Not many dwarves had the ability to take his husband by surprise, but Tamon had managed beautifully. The prince had to give him that.

 

Staring at his breakfast, Bilbo tried to mentally sort through concerns nobody seemed to share. "It's not natural to have a dwarf serve in a smial."

Barking out a laugh, Thorin caressed Bilbo's hand apologetically and shook his head. "Sorry, love, but that exact demand from your grandfather brought us together."

"And you hated it!" The hobbit shot back.

Rubbing his husband's wrist comfortingly, the dwarf shook his head. "No, Bilbo, I hated the idea of being forced, being humiliated. Not a single task I did in your smial ever bothered me. You were respectful and kind. You still are, so I am sure Tamon will enjoy working here."

"But you can't be sure!" Bilbo marred his bottom lip with his teeth. "This is our home. It is our duty to keep it in order."

Obviously his beloved hobbit needed a reminder of his duties and though Thorin preferred him carefree and happy, that was not the reality for them. Pushing away his plate, Thorin entwined their fingers. "Bilbo, I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm glad that we are here. You look much more comfortable in these rooms, than you ever did downstairs, no matter how homey we tried to make it for you. But your duties haven't changed. You are the royal consort and the responsibilities will keep you busy for the majority of each day. You want our home to be beautiful and happy, right? Not a constant source of frustration because you couldn't sweep the floors or change the bedding."

"You are right, of course," the hobbit admitted quietly. In his joy to finally have a proper smial again, he had forgotten how much work it entailed. In Bag End he had taken an hour each day for cleaning duties and minor repairs. Cooking and washing too had taken a considerable amount of time. Thorin was right. Doing everything on his own simply wouldn't be possible here. "Maybe we could talk to Tamon, share the responsibilities?"

Cupping his husband's cheeks because he looked so unhappy, Thorin tried to make him understand. "Bilbo, Tamon has worked as a manservant for the Durin line for nearly two hundred years by now. He takes great pride in it and would be quite dejected if you forbade him to fulfil his duties."

"It's just strange."

"I know, love."

After getting lost in thought, Bilbo tried a small smile when looking at his prince. "Not in the Shire anymore."

Kissing his consort's head, Thorin confirmed, "Not in the Shire anymore."

~ ♥ ~

They worked out a schedule, both with Tamon and Thrain. Dís, Dori and Master Kiron had assisted in coming up with suitable 'office hours' for their hobbit, where he would be available for his guilds and requests from the general public.

The knowledge of having nearly a dozen pregnant women amongst their people had brought great joy to the royal family. At Bilbo's request a new resort labelled 'Childcare' had been called to life, with Bilbo as guardian. And though the hobbit had argued that Dís had more practical experience in these matters, the fact that the lady-dwarves had told him first convinced everybody that Bilbo was the right person for the job.

Sitting through another tiresome meeting where the upcoming crisis with the elves was discussed, Bilbo was more than happy to return to the library afterwards to busy himself with the 'borrowed' books once again. Bombur and Master Andvari were joining him. The chef wanted to present his first draft for the feast on Durin's Day and after some minor tweaks Bilbo approved it. Experience told him that Bombur would change it two more times at least. No need to become overly worried already that there were not enough berries for the cheese plates he had planned as a last course.

 

The information from the Master of Mines was a little harder to understand. "So you are telling me that you want to abandon at least three moderately productive shafts in favour of digging deeper into the mountain core."

Pleased that the hobbit had been so attentive despite his lack of experience with mining, the dwarf nodded. "Exactly."

"Why?"

The master of mines held the royal consort in high regard, because he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in learning more about a topic that was so very important for his new people. Grabbing a piece of chalk and the message board the librarians used for task-keeping, the miner cleaned it and started to sketch the mountain and its shafts.

"You will have to rewrite the message you just erased, you know that?"

"It just said >Books for the Elves<," the miner shrugged. Not as if everyone did not know that already.

Bilbo made an effort to hide a smile. Some things seemed to be the same in every culture. Every hobbit thought his garden more important than his neighbour's. Every guild thought their area of expertise of greater value to their society than all others. Bilbo looked at the sketch. The Master of Mines explained patiently, "Though these three shafts produce gems of good quality, the effort of mining them increases with every foot we go deeper. Some of my workers, with a good sense of stone, told me independently that we can expect greater riches at the bottom of the mountain. So we would like to try and explore them."

"But it's a risk." The hobbit had already understood that much. "Abandoning well secured shafts in favour of digging new ones that much deeper, is dangerous."

"That is true, your royal highness." Master Andvari admitted.

That was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? As royal consort, it was Bilbo's duty to evaluate risk and gain. With only book knowledge on mining and no practical experience to rely upon in the first place. "You still hope to find the heart of Ered Luin," he stated calmly, looking at the miner.

Returning the look in equal manner, the dwarf confirmed, "I do."

"We earn enough gold and gems from our current mines not to take that risk. Am I right?"

Nodding evenly, with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Master Andvari confirmed, "We do." It had been a risk, to ask for permission. Though the consort was responsible in the end, it was the right of the Master of Mines to decide for himself if he wanted to follow a certain shaft. In the past, however, he had conferred with the king. So he had done the same with the royal consort. Master Baggins was a sensible hobbit, valuing the safety of their crew over gold. Sometimes this attitude was hard to comprehend, but he respected Bilbo Baggins for that. Therefore he couldn't show him any less courtesy than their king when it came to his work.

"Alright, do it." Bilbo decided, having the master of mines look at him surprised.

"Really?"

Chuckling softly, he confirmed, "Really! You came here to talk this through, were ready to shut down your plan had I voted against it. I understand your desire to hunt for the greatest treasure this mountain has to offer. Still, you didn't go behind my back. You think the gain is worth the risk. And though I have already told you that I consider the best place of the heart of anything right where it belongs, I am no dwarf. It would be wrong to make a decision based on hobbit standards."

"If you don't approve of my plan, why do you allow me to follow it?" The miner asked bewildered.

Smiling Bilbo shrugged, "Your miners told you the area is rich. More gold and gems can never hurt. That, and I trust you. You are one of my guild masters. If I couldn't trust your advice, I would be the wrong person in charge of your budget."

Flattered by that vote of confidence, Master Andvari bowed deeply. "You honour me, your royal highness."

"Bilbo, Master Andvari, the name is Bilbo."

Grinning, the miner looked around where scribes passed by on occasion. "Not here, Master Baggins. But surely when you visit our mines the next time."

Consenting, Bilbo saw the guild master out and rewrote the former inscription on the message board. He startled when the miner reappeared behind him out of the blue, the moment he put it back on place. The dwarf starred at the message before fixing his eyes on the hobbit. For a moment neither said anything. After a few tense heartbeats the miner spoke, "If you would allow me a suggestion, Master Baggins: return the responsibilities for the merchants' guild to the royal family, namely Lady Dís. You don't deserve to be given so much grief for simply trying to fulfil your responsibilities. The princess will be fair and just and very, very vicious."

Still feeling slightly unsure, Bilbo nodded. "Thank you for your advice, Master Andvari. I will talk to my sister-in-law."

Nodding, the dwarf added, "And of course I returned to restore the message. With all the work you put into learning our ways, it is sometimes easy to forget that you are not a dwarf and don't know the language of our people. _> Have a good day, respected friend.<_"

"And a good day to you too." Bilbo nodded gratefully. When the miner left he sagged, barely able to draw breath.

"This could have gone horribly wrong," Ori stated quietly, from behind the shelf the hobbit was leaning against.

"I know, Ori. Believe me, I know."

Returning to his book, Bilbo tried to dispel the horrible images of what could have happened if the majority of the dwarves had realized that he could speak their sacred tongue. He was a hobbit after all, not meant to know these secrets, and no marriage and no amount of responsibility he felt towards the inhabitants of this mountain would ever change that.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An enraged croak made Bilbo flinch, whipping around to find a huge raveness perched on his windowsill. "Evil hobbit! Cooking away nice food. Won't tell you news now. No, I won't!" And with that Vár turned around, hopping onto the window-frame, presenting Bilbo with her back.


	12. Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thorin and Bilbo lay in their bed a few hours later, the dwarf speculated, "You're still angry with father."  
> "Yes." Turning his head to look at his husband, Bilbo wanted to know, "What gave me away?"  
> Smiling a little, Thorin hugged him tenderly. "You were really polite all through the evening and called him 'your majesty' when he left. You dislike titles. So you only use them when you are annoyed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I'm not working as fast as I can on this story. So though updates are slow, please don't worry. There are already a dozen more chapters of Serve and Obey written, and I am far from finished. Enjoy this one, more are sure to follow.

Humming quietly to himself, Bilbo was stirring a pot of giblets for a rich soup. Tamon and a timid little dwarf named Eikinskjaldi had just finished dusting and left after a cup of tea and some biscuits a while ago. The servant and Bilbo had come to the agreement that the dwarf would be allowed to see to his duties, like Bilbo had had lady-hobbits do in the Shire, for spring-cleaning for example, and afterwards be treated like every other hobbit, namely, receive a meal when the royal consort was around.

The new dwarf had blushed and stammered upon their introduction, especially when the hobbit had requested to be called by his first name. They hand consented that the dwarf would call him 'Master Bilbo' and Bilbo would call him Eikin, since the young one was quite uncomfortable with his meaningful name, especially in the household of the crown prince. True, he had been given it before the battle of Moria, but that didn't change anything.

When the hobbit had held Tamon back on their way out, asking about the purpose of the young dwarf, the servant had seemed surprised as if the answer was obvious. "Eikin is your future manservant in training of course. It really would not do for the royal highnesses to share a servant." After that the elderly dwarf had bowed deeply, hiding a smile at the hobbit's bafflement. "Have a good day, Master Baggins."

 

So that was why Bilbo gazed into his pot, lost in thought, not noticing the guest that was coming through the window. An enraged croak made him flinch, whipping around to find a huge raveness perched on his windowsill. "Evil hobbit! Cooking away nice food. Won't tell you news now. No, I won't!" And with that Vár turned around, hopping onto the window-frame, presenting her back to Bilbo.

The hobbit had a hard time not to chuckle, knowing that it would only anger his raven-friend further. Besides, he kind of had neglected her flock for the last few weeks. While he was able to study in the raven valley, it was impossible to write there. So he had chosen the dark library over the spacious outdoors. He knew, however, that Vár surely would not have told him about potential news, if she did not consider them important. With a sigh he adjusted his planned meal and approached her quietly.

Leaning against the windowsill, he cautiously brushed over the feathers on her back. While she didn't lean into the touch, she didn't fly away either. That told the hobbit that there was a good chance for him to get her to share her information if he could just come up with the right bribery. "I have a lovely piece of liver in my cold pantry. Would you consider trying it, Lady Vár?"

"Maybe," came the lofty reply and with a smile the hobbit went to fetch the treat. After presenting it in a suitable bowl on his table, he turned his back again and returned to his soup. Things would develop in their own time. There was no use in rushing a raven.

Bilbo was just covering the soup after having added vegetables and meat when he felt Vár's weight on his shoulder. Offering a towel, he let the raven clean her bloody beak before she started grooming him. This would take a while, so Bilbo returned to his study, opening the window despite the chill in the air, to give the bird a point of exit. There was hammering and shuffling in his smial since it was far from finished. But to draw the pictures from the book he had copied already, he didn't need silence. About half an hour passed, his shoulder already started to ache from the additional weight, before Vár spoke again. "Elves are coming."

"I know."

"No, elves are coming. Day after tomorrow."

"What?" Bilbo's head flew around, dislodging her. "How do you know?"

Choosing a more stable resting place on the shelf between the desks, Vár explained, "Exercise. Hatchlings flew. Saw many wagons."

Dread pooled in Bilbo's stomach, because hosting a small army of elves surely wouldn't sit well with his dwarves. "How many wagons were there? How many elves?"

Pondering over the question the raveness turned her head this way and that before revealing, "Hatchling can't count. Said more than one and one."

Rubbing his temple, the hobbit concluded, "So there could be any number of carriages between three and three dozen."

Seemingly pleased with that conclusion the bird nodded. "Yes."

"Vár, I need a better number! Can't you find one of your messenger birds and give me a more accurate estimation?" The hobbit begged. "Please, it’s important!" After watching the bird leave, he stored away the book and hurried downstairs. The king was currently keeping audience, like every Thursday. Everybody could come and share their concerns or ask for judgement in a domestic quarrel. When the hobbit approached the throne from the side, it took a few moments for the current dwarf to finish his request. Only then did Thrain gesture him forward.

Leaning closer as to not be overheard, Bilbo shared, "The elves are two days away."

"How do you know?"

"Vár told me."

Nodding, thinking the situation through, Thrain ordered, "Get my family and the sons of Fundin. We'll talk about this in the salon once the audiences are over."

Aware that gossip travelled fast, the hobbit suggested, "What about a nice supper at the Mountaintop? The general public will be concerned if we lock ourselves away for an extended amount of time."

Judging the number of dwarves still lingering, the king agreed. "I think I should be able to make it to supper."

Well, Bilbo would need a lot more soup if he planned to serve all of his Durins and Balin and Dwalin as well.

~ ♥ ~

Supper-slash-dinner passed in a considerably more relaxed mood, once Vár peeked in to reveal that really only three wagons were on their way.

"These elves have been stubborn and demeaning every single time they have come here so far. I really don't want our people to be forced to deal with them," Thrain informed them, oblivious to the looks Bilbo and Thorin traded, since he sounded so very much like the old Took at the beginning of the summer before last.

"Then don't let your people deal with them," the hobbit suggested. "Let me do it. At least they can't talk behind my back without me understanding them."

"Why would you want to deal with these elves, Bilbo?" His sister-in-law inquired. "They are not like Elrond's children, believe me."

"I do believe you. But of everyone present I am the best equipped to do so. I've interacted with the first-borns ever since my mother gave birth to me in Rivendell."

Sceptically Thrain asked, "And you are sure that you will have your priorities straight when dealing with the race our maker sent us to sleep for?"

His children, his nephews as well as the sons of Fundin couldn't help but look hurt on their hobbit's behalf, at that accusation. Bilbo, however, rose calmly and gathered the empty plates. "I will not grace that statement with an answer, Thrain. You should know better than to doubt me," before leaving for the kitchen.

Kíli was the only one bold enough to break the following silence. "Is that really what you think of him, grandfather? After everything he has done for us?"

Sagging against the chair, the king rubbed his eyes tiredly. "No, I don't. Excuse me."

When his father entered the kitchen, Thorin tried to follow, but Balin held him back. "Don't, lad, Thranduil's betrayal still runs deep. Your father never experienced elves who are open and supportive like we did last year. Give them time. They'll come back when they are ready."

~ ♥ ~

When Thorin and Bilbo lay in their bed a few hours later, the dwarf speculated, "You're still angry with father."

"Yes." Turning his head to look at his husband, Bilbo wanted to know, "What gave me away?"

Smiling a little, Thorin hugged him tenderly. "You were **really** polite all through the evening and called him 'your majesty' when he left. You dislike titles. So you only use them when you are annoyed."

"Well, he should not have questioned my loyalty!"

"No," Thorin soothed, "He should not. But it's been a really long time since my father could rely on another race for support."

Tiredly, Bilbo sighed. "I've been here for him as much as any of you ever since I arrived, and he’d better pick up on that soon. Or the next muffins I will give him will have salt in them instead of sugar!"

Kissing his husband because he was so very adorable in his threats, the dwarf whispered, "Give him time. He will come around eventually. Everybody who gets to know you does in the end."

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo had worked tirelessly, and through quite fierce resistance, to make sure that the assigned quarters would be to their guests’ liking – meaning he had ordered them to be relocated to the edge of the mountain, where the homes had windows and high ceilings. He personally collected flowers and arranged them in the living-rooms. They were not as fair or as colourful as he would have liked, but they were better than nothing. He even had to change the soaps because a particularly vicious dwarf had placed curd soap in the bathrooms, though Bilbo knew from personal experience that soaps with floral scents were available.

Now he stood in the great hall, on his accustomed position to the right from his husband who, as always on official business, had claimed the place beside the throne. Fíli and Kíli mirrored their position on the king's other side.

All in all, a party of nine elves stepped into the chamber. They barely lowered their heads before saying, without so much as a greeting, "We are here to retrieve the books that were stolen from us! We received a letter, indicating them to be here."

'Way to get to the point," the hobbit thought, but remained silent. At least until another elf sneered, adding a little more quietly. _~Not that they would do them any good. They most likely use them as stepping-stones.~_

Thorin inhaled sharply at the obvious mocking. Sometimes you didn't need to know the words to understand their meaning. Bilbo however stepped forth, catching the king's eyes. Reluctantly Thrain nodded, so he approached the elves and looked up calmly. "Is it common for the representatives of the Grey Havens to insult their hosts at the very first chance they get?"

Snickering was his only answer when the elves looked down at him. A dark-haired guard whispered, _~This kingdom must really be at the end of its wits if they allow a halfling to speak for them.~_

After having spent the last two days making sure that their guests would be comfortable and barely any sleep, Bilbo started to pray from strength. This was far more taxing then he could have imaged. Still, he remained polite when stating, "This kingdom is perfectly fine, Milady. And I can assure you that I am not half of anything. I am a hobbit of the Shire. Bilbo Baggins, consort of Thorin Oakenshield, and I would be grateful if you would introduce yourselves so that I know who gives us the honour."

Smiling down at him, obviously surprised, a silver-haired elf with a beard stated, "We come from the Grey Havens to retrieve our books. But now you got me curious. Pray tell me, what twist of fate brought someone who speaks Sindarin but not Khuzdul to a court of dwarves?"

"My fate is my own," Bilbo declare as polite as possible, because the rudeness of the other elves sat quite ill with him. "I just wanted to make sure that your books are returned to their rightful owners. So I was elected spokes-person on behalf of my people. We already have them wrapped up and ready for transport."

Raising his eyebrows, the silver-haired elf looked down at Bilbo, when the hobbit bowed and drew back to the throne after having said his part. "There is still the matter with the poisoned earth to discuss."

Sighing, Thrain replied, "How often will we have to repeat that argument?"

Bilbo later wrote his quip off to too little sleep and the bad temper these elves had caused when he muttered quietly, nearly at his position beside Thorin once again, "Not as if they are not right about that." Half a heartbeat later, the hobbit realized that the entire royal family was looking at him in shock. The king was glaring daggers when ordering, "Majordomo, please guide these guests to their quarters. My family and I have something to discuss."

~ ♥ ~

The door nearly flew off its hinges when Thrain slammed it shut. Red-faced he shouted at Bilbo, "How dare you? How dare you denigrate me in front of the entire court, you treacherous, little hobbit?"

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Really. Slowly but surely Bilbo has had enough of being met with hostility. His blood was boiling already. When Thorin stepped up to him to calm him down, he avoided his husband's touch. The last thing he wanted was to be calm right now.

"You implied that we are responsible for the elves sick earth! Lucky you, nobody but us heard, or I would have your head for treason! I knew that this would happen. I should never have allowed my son to bring a stranger into our home!"

Alright, that was it. Evading the boys' hands when they tried to reach for him, aware that this would end badly, Bilbo shot towards the king and poked him in the chest quite forcefully, yelling, "How dare you, you stubborn, hard headed dwarf? I've worked the soles off my feet for you **and** your people! You were forced to sell your son and grandsons because your stupid pride estranged neighbours that couldn't be more friendly. And now all of a sudden you dispute the fact that made us relocate the fields a year ago. How dare I? **You** watch everyone with mistrust and hostility, so sure in your conviction that you are right, that you can't even consider someone else's opinion. Of course you are poisoning everything downstream. Where do you think does the water from your forges go?

"And you know what's the most hilarious in all this is? Had you listened to those elves the first time they came, they might even have been able to offer a solution, sparing you the fate of having to give your son to a 'treacherous hobbit'!"

When the door slammed shut behind Bilbo, nobody dared to breathe, too shocked about his outbreak.

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo was shaking the entire way up to the Mountaintop. His doors hit the walls when he threw them open one after the other. With half a mind, he remembered to pick up his gloves before storming out to the mountain terrace to start weeding. That the pest plants up here were particularly resistant served his purpose just fine.

He most certainly did not acknowledge the tears that streamed down his face. That was just the wind since he was up really high. How dare he? How dare Thrain accuse him of slander? He had known about the soil being poisonous, otherwise he would never have given permission to relocate the fields. Why was he denying that all of a sudden? The king had had to offer his own family and Bilbo had gone above and beyond the call of duty to make the princes' offering worth the sacrifice. How could his father-in-law doubt him now?

Realizing that he had just been sitting in his garden, doing nothing, Bilbo rose and brushed away lingering wetness from his cheeks. He needed hot chocolate, maybe even a cookie or two. Entering his home, he splashed water into his face and put milk on the stove. Stirring the basic mixture of hot chocolate with cinnamon, a dash of chili and honey, watching it bubble, he called himself a fool. He had known right from the beginning that living here wouldn't be easy, that he would hit rough patches on the way. It was just … well, he had hoped that at least his new family would have his back unconditionally. Obviously he had been mistaken.

When someone knocked, Bilbo swiftly pulled the milk from the stove and went for the door. The moment he opened the round green door, he realized what a fool's errand this had to be, since there was no path attached to his garden. Defying his expectations, the tall, silver-haired elf from before stood before him, bowing deeply. _~Círdan, Shipbuilder of the Grey Havens, greetings, Master Baggins.~_

_~Greetings,~_ Bilbo stammered, eyeing the elf with disbelief. _~Do you … would you like to come in?~_ Stepping away from the door, the hobbit wondered for a moment if he should invite this hostile … well, formerly hostile elf into his home. But on the other hand, the king already believed him a traitor. How much worse could it get? In a sensible conversation, he might even be able to convince their guest that the dwarves had not acted with ill intent and maybe improve the relationship between their people. _~You can leave your shoes at the door. I was just making hot chocolate. Would you care for a cup?~_

Dutifully unlacing his boots, Círdan smiled. _~If hot chocolate is behind this heavenly smell, I would be delighted.~_

After warming the milk back up just a little, the hobbit offered one cup to his guest who had joined him in the kitchen. Putting cookies and his fruit bowl on the table, Bilbo sat down, facing his guest. _~So, Master Círdan, tell me, what brings you here?~_

_~I was told that you were responsible for our quarters. In the past we were always given tiny rooms where we could barely stand straight. I wanted to offer my thanks.~_

_~You're welcome,~_ the hobbit brushed off the gratitude. _~Still, I would like to know what brought you up here? I know that no paths connect my garden to the inner valleys. So how did you reach my door?~_

Smiling kindly, the elf shook his head. _~Numerous paths connect your garden to the rest of these mountains. You just have to learn to see them.~_

Chuckling, Bilbo replied, _~Maybe you need a higher vantage point for that.~_

_~Maybe,~_ Círdan conceded. _~Will you allow me a question of my own?~_ When Bilbo nodded encouragingly, he continued, _~Every single time we came here in the past, we were met with hostility and disregard. Now you are here and all of a sudden some dwarves treat us with respect. Not the king, mind you, but the Majordomo was polite, friendly even, compared to our last visit.~_

Sighing, Bilbo looked out of the window at the heap of pest plants he had created in the middle of his garden. He wondered how much of the history of his people he was allowed to share. How to show himself loyal to someone who already believed the worst of him. _~It's complicated. Let's just say that Master Dori learned last summer that first-borns are not necessarily rude, hostile and condescending.~_

The elf seemed to get the thinly veiled berating, because he had the decency to look apologetic. _~And am I allowed to know who taught him that?~_

_~The Lady Arwen and her brothers Elladan and Elrohir.~_

Surprised the elf looked up from his cup. _~The children of Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell?~_

_~Who do you think taught me Sindarin?~_

Tilting his head, the elf chuckled. _~You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.~_ Rising, he nodded slightly towards his empty cup. _~Thank you for the refreshment. I think our next meeting will be much more productive than our introductions.~_

_~Let's hope so,~_ Bilbo mumbled, seeing his guest out. Fascinated, he watched him climb the mountain as if it was nothing more than walking up a hill. Closing the door, he leaned against it for a moment, trying to gather his wits on how to proceed.

Thorin's question came as a surprise since he had not heard his husband enter. Yet it was not unexpected because his husband wanted to know, "What did you and Círdan talk about?"

Only tilting his head, not pulling back from the door, the hobbit assessed, "So you knew who he was."

"Yes," Thorin confirmed. "Balin showed me a picture when they came here the first time. But please, father is furious, Bilbo. Tell me what you two were talking about."

"Why?" Bilbo snapped, turning towards his husband. "Because you don't trust me, if I don't tell you?"

Closing his eyes against that lash, Thorin took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was just a convenient target for the Took blood that still seemed to burn through Bilbo's veins. Trying very hard not to take it personally, he reminded his husband in a soft tone, "You know that I trust you with everything I have and everything I am. It's unfair of you to insinuate otherwise, just because father infuriated you."

Shivering from the stress, all these overflowing emotions go the better of him every single time, Bilbo pulled back from the door and burrowed into his husband. Hiding his face in Thorin's chest he whispered, "You are right, I shouldn't have said that. I apologize, love."

Closing his arms around Bilbo, the dwarf pulled him in and rubbed his back comfortingly. "Apology accepted."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being a ruler came with a strong sense of self. As king Thrain had to make decisions and stay by them until the very end. No matter if they were right or wrong. In their society there was no room for a king to make mistakes. Things were different however, for the patriarch of a family.


	13. (Non-Hostile) Interaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuckling quietly, Thorin accused, once the hobbit had returned to the stove, "You raise my nephews to become hobbits. There is a conflict in the family and the first thing they think about is everybody coming together for a meal."  
> "Your point being?" Bilbo lifted his eyebrows in challenge.  
> His husband only smiled and kissed his forehead. "Nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so very patient with me. I also have good news for you. I've already finished two more chapters during the last three days and since I will enjoy the holidays with my family, I might be able to squeeze in a few more. I'm currently writing chapter 30 so you can rest assured that there is much, much more to come. Maybe even a couple Bilbo had a heavy hand in getting together. Can you imagine who I am talking about?

"Could you still tell me what you two were talking about?" Thorin asked when they were chopping vegetables for supper a little while later. Somehow, the unspoken idea that they would not dine alone hovered between them.

"Master Círdan wanted to thank me for their rooms and share his surprise about a hobbit living with dwarves – some of whom are far less hostile than they had been during their last visit."

Reluctantly the prince wanted to know, "And what did you tell him?"

"That it is complicated, but that some of you met Elrond's children the summer before last. I didn't speak about the contract between the Shire and Ered Luin. That's between us."

Nodding with relief, the dwarf put the sliced vegetables into the pot. "You think the meeting tomorrow will go better?"

"That, Thorin, will depend entirely on your father."

~ ♥ ~

They had spent a good two hours in the kitchen, preparing a meal they did not know if anybody but them would attend. Fíli and Kíli tiptoed around the corner shortly before seven. Both looked pale and seemed nervous, not sure if they were welcome. Trading glances with Thorin, Bilbo just hugged them wordlessly before nudging them towards the living-room. "Set the table please. Will your mother come as well?"

"Dwalin and Balin too, I think," Fíli replied, while Kíli was already picking up the dishes.

Touching the bold dwarf's shoulder comfortingly, Bilbo prompted him to follow his brother. "It's alright, Fíli. Don't worry. We prepared enough so no one will go hungry."

Relieved, the blond leaned against Bilbo and touched their foreheads. "Thank you."

Chuckling quietly, Thorin accused, once the hobbit had returned to the stove, "You raise my nephews to become hobbits. There is a conflict in the family and the first thing they think about is everybody coming together for a meal."

"Your point being?" Bilbo lifted his eyebrows in challenge.

His husband only smiled and kissed his forehead. "Nothing."

True to the boys' words, Dís and Dwalin appeared on their doorstep moments later. The hobbit had not believed that someone could ring a doorbell hesitantly, yet the princess somehow managed. When he opened the door, she started, "Bilbo, we … father … "

Raising his hand, the hobbit interrupted her. "Don't, Dís. Please. Just come in. The food is nearly on the table."

Of course the Durin family was a tight-knit bunch. Still, the last thing Bilbo wanted was for Dís to apologize for her father. Thrain had acted like a stubborn fool, so he should swallow his damn pride and face the hobbit himself. He was just about to close the door when he heard the quiet scratches of boots. For a heartbeat, Bilbo wasn’t even sure if the noise hadn’t just been a figment of his imagination. But he wanted to hope, wanted so desperately to have faith in this one person that held all their fates in his hands, to give him a little longer to come up. He closed the door and sat down on the doorstep just outside. There it was again, footsteps vanishing into the distance and suddenly the hobbit couldn't swallow the sob that emerged from his throat.

Pressing a hand to his mouth to get himself under control again, Bilbo shook his head. He had wanted to be angry, but the pain of being distrusted by his father-in-law hurt too much. How could he? Burying his face in his hands Bilbo did his best to muffle his strained breaths that were amplified by the corridor. Now energetic steps came closer. Suspecting Balin, Bilbo did his best to regain his composure before looking up. He was surprised to find blue eyes so similar to Thorin's looking down at him. The face of the dwarf before him appeared tired and worn, not regal in the slightest. The simple tunic and leather trousers were free of any ornaments or decorations. Had Thorin come to the Shire a hundred years from now, Bilbo imagined him looking exactly like this, exhausted and desperate.

Quietly he accused, "How can you think that of me? I love your son more than anything. I adore your grandsons as if they were mine. Nothing in my life is more important than the prosperity of our people. You are their king and my father-in-law! How can you even fathom the thought that I would ever do anything but have your back?"

"Was that what you talked to the shipbuilder about, arguing our cause?" Thrain, who had crouched down before his son-in-law, asked in a gravel voice.

"Are you spying on me?" Bilbo wanted to know, too drained to even get angry.

The king shook his head. "No, Lord Círdan came to me after your meeting."

"I told him that some of our dwarves have gotten to know elves who are kind and supportive. I realize that the representatives of the Grey Havens seem condescending to you. Yet you have treated them with hostility for so long that they obviously were up in arms defending themselves against your attacks even before the actual attacks happened."

"We never attacked them!"

"There are more ways to wound someone than by drawing a weapon on him. Words and gestures can hurt as well, my king."

Thrain looked at Bilbo, surprised by the address. "You still consider me your king?"

At that, the hobbit could only shake his head. "I'm married to your son. I try to help your people so they are happy and prosper. I will consider you my king until the day I die."

The dwarf looked at the hobbit in front of him for several long moments. "You don't know what the elves did to us. They deserve our mistrust!"

Looking into the king's weary eyes, Bilbo contradicted him. "I do, Thrain. Thorin told me. Every last painful detail. But Círdan is not Thranduil. And it's unfair of you to treat him that way."

Being a ruler came with a strong sense of self. As king, Thrain had to make decisions and stand by them until the very end, no matter if they were right or wrong. In their society there was no room for a king to make mistakes. Things were different however, for the patriarch of a family. Taking a deep breath, Thrain offered his hand to help their hobbit to his feet. "I'm sorry, Bilbo. I should not have accused you of treachery. My son … we all can consider ourselves lucky that you two found each other."

Feeling as if he could finally breathe again, Bilbo pulled Thrain in for a hug, something the dwarf only returned reluctantly. "Thank you, Thrain. That's all I wanted to hear."

 

When they entered the smial together, the others looked at them and when Bilbo asked the king to take a seat so that the first course could be served, it was as if a veil had been lifted. Only now did Thrain realize how much is family had let Bilbo into their hearts.

~ ♥ ~

"So, from what I understand, you bought our books in good faith and did not know them to be stolen."

At Círdan's request, the second meeting took place with only the Durin family and their guards present. They all sat together in the first chamber of Bilbo's smial, with tea and biscuits and little fruit tarts. All these arrangements seemed to help a little, since the tension ran considerably lower than the day before, though the king still looked fairly guarded.

Representing Master Regin, who had asked not to be forced to attend, Bilbo confirmed, "That's exactly what happened. The moment we suspected they were stolen goods, we sent you the message."

Shaking her head, an elven-woman with long, brown hair demanded to know. "How could there have been any doubt about the origins of the books when you saw them the first time?"

The hobbit, who, at Thrain's request had been seated on his left side, touched the king's arm under the table when the dwarf bristled. "Are you insinuating that our Master of Scribes was somehow involved in this thievery?"

Like Bilbo, Círdan acted as a calming influence, smoothing Thrain's ruffled feathers. "Not at all, Lord Thrain. We were just wondering what lucky coincidence brought our books to you, instead of distributing them all over Middle Earth." The elf's lips twitched when he noticed the gratitude in the hobbit's eyes. No, their people would not be best friends; but between him and the clever little halfling, they might actually come to a solution regarding this theft that would not deepen the chasm between their people.

"Though there were several books with your signet on top, the top five volumes were written in Westron." 'One even in Khuzdul, but I will be damned to share this. Thrain would be beside himself,' Bilbo thought.

A white-haired elf from the side sneered, "And you expect us to believe that you put them back the moment you discovered their origin?"

Looking at the speaker whose distrust seemed to match the king's, Bilbo actually smiled. No, he definitely would not allow his people to be painted the villains of this story. "I never said that."

_~What?~_ With a stuttered outrage in the language of his kin, the elf glared at him.

Not backing down, Bilbo held his gaze calmly. "First of all, it's very rude to use a language not everybody present can understand. Second," he raised his hand when the elf tried to interrupt him.  "Second, of course we went through the books we had bought. It was a mere courtesy on our behalf that we informed you of their whereabouts. These books contain knowledge useful for us. So we copied as many of them as possible before preparing them for transport."

"You copied our old texts?" one of the elvish guards bristled, gazing at the dwarves.

Thorin just smiled at that, proud that his husband was handling this so well. "You want to think about that question again?"

Mirroring the prince's small smile, the shipbuilder remarked, "Well, at least one inhabitant of this mountain clearly is proficient in our ancient language."

Seeing this as a chance to offer a small concession, the king looked at the royal consort. "Which books did you chose, Master Baggins?"

"'The Healing Plants of the Blue Mountains'," Bilbo revealed. "My dwarves originate from Erebor. I'm from the Shire. None of us is extensively familiar with the fauna of this region. The knowledge was of more value to me than any ancient texts of your people."

Softening a little, the elven woman sank back into her seat. "That's the second part of a compendium. Why didn't you start with the first?"

"Because we knew that I would be hard pressed to copy even one book in time." The hobbit admitted. "I've grown things all my life, I hoped to discover the growing properties of them simply by studying them; but their numerous uses I could never decipher on my own."

"So your first intent was to get the most of our literature to help your people and not educate yourself on your enemy."

Sighing sadly, the royal consort shook his head. "As long as you don't bring harm to us, why would I perceive you as my enemy?"

Tilting his head slightly, Círdan reminded him, "With the dwarves of these mountains poisoning our land, it is hard to share that sentiment."

 

"Leave." Defying all expectations, Thrain did not explode at that accusation. He merely rose from his chair and commanded his people out of the room. He gestured at Bilbo to make him stay, and Círdan for the same reason. Clearly the guards felt very uncomfortable leaving their charges alone, but when Thorin headed for the door after a slight nudge from his hobbit, the others followed.

When there were only the three of them left, the shipbuilder looked at the king expectantly.

Thrain hated this, hated to admit to a fault, to admit needing help, especially in front of these elvish bastards. But if Bilbo was right and there was even a fraction of a chance for these people to solve their problem, he had to take it. For the good of those under his care. He had expected from Thorin and Fíli and Kíli to swallow their pride when sending them to the Shire. How could he expect any less from himself, no matter the humiliation?

"Are you up for a little trip, Lord Círdan?" When the blasted elf nodded, Thrain led the way, unable to meet Bilbo's eyes since the hobbit looked at him with pride and admiration. At least he had someone at his side who knew how much this cost him.

~ ♥ ~

"By the stars," Círdan straightened and pulled back from their former fields. He rubbed his hands against his trousers to get the earth off, shivering slightly. "How can you stand being here, walking this soil?"

"I can't," Bilbo shrugged, not even getting down from his pony.

"Actually," The king shot his son-in-law a sideways gaze. "He made himself sick walking these fields the first week after his arrival."

Shaking his head, Círdan looked at the dwarven king. "And your people ate what grew on these fields? For two decades?" When the king nodded gravely, the elf exhaled shakily. "You truly are creatures of stone. My kin wouldn't have made it half as long."

Trading a pleading look with Thrain, who caved after mere moments, Bilbo whispered, "That's not the worst. The worst is that this water comes from their own forges."

_~What?~_

~ ♥ ~

To say that it was a surprise for the inhabitants of Ered Luin to see an elf, a dwarf and a hobbit walk up to their forges was an understatement. Still, nobody dared to intervene when the king growled at the first guard who tried.

Thrain explained about >alvâm-shulk<, cleaning water to purify the metal and >unjùkhudhab-shulk<, painting water to draw beautiful decorations into silver and steel. Bilbo showed Círdan the basins that held the water from the forges and how freely the dwarves used them for cleaning themselves, though luckily not for quenching their thirst any longer. At least the hobbit had been able to break them out of that particular habit.

"They shouldn't use this water for cleaning purposes either," the shipbuilder warned them. "The poison seeps through their skin straight into their bones."

Trading a glance because of course Thrain and Bilbo had noticed that the smiths' health had improved the least from all of their people, they nodded solemnly. Things would have to change even more than they had realized. Since this was really too much to expect from the king, who had seen his people suffer and die because the Woodland king had denied his help, Bilbo straightened and looked up at his newfound friend.

The question had to be asked and he could spare Thrain at least the humiliation to do it himself. "Lord Círdan, do you think you can help?"

~ ♥ ~

The elves left later the same day. Though they had promised to return with a possible way to filter the water if they found one, Thrain did not feel as bad as he might have, when considering accepting help from them. If this shipbuilder really could deliver what he had promised, they would gain several acres of land for growing food. If not, they were no worse off than they were now. Maybe not all elves were egoistic, condescending and self-serving. Though one might argue that helping the dwarves would help the elves' soil too, as long as his people would benefit from it, Thrain would not question their motives.

~ ♥ ~

When Bilbo and Thorin stepped outside from their smial that evening, to enjoy a relaxing pipe under the stars, they found a huge leather-bound package on Bilbo's garden bench. The hobbit started to tremble from excitement, so that Thorin had to open the bindings, revealing the three books that dealt with the plants native to Ered Luin. On top of it was a note written in an elegant hand:

 ~ ♥ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin chose a place on the floor before him. "Beloved, there is … I have to talk to you about a quite serious matter."  
> When his hobbit sat there, looking down at him with such trusting eyes, the prince regretted not to have revealed this sooner. In the end they would always have each other before all else. They shouldn't keep secrets. Not even with the best of intentions. "There are dwarves in this mountain, not many I promise you, but a few, that are … they would prefer not to have a couple of mixed race in line for the throne."


	14. Preparations for Durin's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there was a strong opposition against his hobbit and with the upcoming New Year's Ball, Thorin had no idea how to keep his beloved safe. Balls were too good a chance for assassination attempts. Assigning Bilbo more guards was out of the question. Their friends were already making sure that he was barely alone. More armed people would only alarm him. And in the end, all of his concerns were based on rumours, nothing to pin a real danger on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a little 'off the road' with Thorin in this chapter. But thanks to Redone, my trusty beta, I have him more or less back on track. I hope you enjoy :).

For the next weeks there were all kinds of commotion in the smial. Now that everyone was 'back on schedule', the many helpers, who were eager to finish their hobbit's home, came in from dawn to dusk and sometimes even beyond to saw, hammer and paint. While Bilbo tried to accommodate them in the best hobbit fashion, he soon discovered that he simply did not have time to do so around the clock. So he made sure that there was always tea on the stove, bread on the table and cookies or fruits available. The dwarves working in Mountaintop – yes that actually had become the name of Bilbo's new smial – always came and went with a smile on their face. So the hobbit didn't have too bad of a conscience when he left them to their own devices in order to attend to his duties.

The evenings were reserved for Bilbo and Thorin strolling through their garden, which was enclosed by a steadily growing wall. While the hobbit tried to identify the few plants that still grew despite the cold, Thorin enjoyed manual labour. Shifting boulders and erecting small fences, he prepared a part of the garden for the vegetable patches Bilbo wanted to set next spring. Both had discovered that their nights were much calmer when they could work off a part of the tension they had gathered during their working hours.

As he was accustomed to before every major event, with the exception of his own wedding last year, Thorin had made time to talk to Nori, the guards and a few dwarves from each guild, to get a proper sense of the moods in the mountain concerning his family. With every day Durin's Day came closer, Thorin's concern about the guilds opposed to his hobbit grew. Bilbo had talked to the head of the Merchants' Guild two weeks ago, admitting that he obviously was the wrong person for the job of handling their funds. The dwarf had been delighted of course, comforting the royal consort and explaining that nobody really had expected a hobbit to succeed at a dwarf's job. Surely the king would make up for the lost funding in no time. Their guild was rather important for their economy after all.

Or had been delighted, until Dís, who had attended that meeting, had informed him that not her father but she would take over their budgets. Swiftly she had cut their accessible money in half, since, as she explained dispassionately, the Merchants' Guild had taken their time providing their books. So obviously they had been able to fund themselves in the meantime.

Bilbo had been slightly worried to leave her with a dwarf who had appeared murderous, but a soothing smile from his sister-in-law had him go. An hour later they had met for tea and Dís had taken great delight in telling him how she had brought this stubborn fool to his knees: simply by telling him that he would not have to work with her at all. As representative of the king, she could always call for a new guild master, if the one currently elected proved impossible to work with.

Bilbo spent the next few days going over texts that explained in greater detail the powers and responsibilities of a ruling member of the Durin family, discovering that his sister-in-law had been in the right and could appoint a new guild master whenever she decided. It might be an uncommon practise but it was possible.

Thorin used his meagre free time to talk to the members of his family. He also spoke to 'Bilbo's' guild masters and their friends to discover in more detail the public opinion on his hobbit. Conflict always brewed conflict. So the dwarf made sure each morning that his husband was armed and wore his armour under the waistcoat.

Though many dwarves, especially those working with Bilbo or associated with the pregnant lady-dwarves, were in favour of their hobbit, a considerable number were still opposed to a royal consort from another race. Thrain had suggested a display of dominance from Thorin's side. Maybe him deciding against Bilbo and in favour of a guild once loyal to the throne would ease them, demonstrating that the royal heir was willing to contradict his husband. But the prince had outright refused. Firstly, the hobbit took his responsibilities very seriously and always thought them through after having gathered as much information as possible. Secondly, he would never, ever publicly side with anyone but Bilbo. Had they both been dwarves, his father would not even have made that suggestion.

So there was a strong opposition against his hobbit and with the upcoming New Year's Ball, Thorin had no idea how to keep his beloved safe. Balls were too good a chance for assassination attempts. Assigning Bilbo more guards was out of the question. Their friends were already making sure that he was barely alone. More armed people would only alarm him. And in the end, all of his concerns were based on rumours, nothing to pin a real danger on.

~ ♥ ~

"Eikin, please, leave my books be," Bilbo admonished softly when he found the young dwarf sorting through the volumes on his desk.

Immediately stepping back, looking at his feet, the young man apologized. "I just wanted to dust a little. I'm sorry if I made a mess."

Smiling, the hobbit briefly touched his shoulder to offer comfort. "Don't worry about it. I just wanted to fetch the schedule for Durin's Day. Master Kiron and Master Dori will be here momentarily." Raising his writing-pad he reached for the sheet in question, when his manservant asked eagerly, "Can I serve tea? I practised making some in the Majordomo's tea house!"

"You certainly can."

 

Eikinskjaldi had become a permanent fixture in Bilbo's life by now. He was polite, helpful, well-educated, and every minute he was not wrapped up in duties to keep the smial in order, he spent at the hobbit's side. If Eikin thought it strange that Bilbo offered all of his friends the same amount of devotion and support, even the ones he shouldn't be able to understand, the young dwarf never said anything. He hadn't even seemed surprised when he had caught Bilbo and Bifur talking about the walls in the hobbit's garden, one in Khuzdul and the other in Westron.

A brief conversation with Thorin and Tamon revealed to Bilbo that a manservant was sworn to secrecy when taking on a master. So whether the hobbit was plotting the downfall of Thrain's reign or salvation for the entire dwarven kingdom, every single dwarf in the mountain had a choice to either support or contradict him – every last one of them but Eikinskjaldi. A manservant was loyal to his master above all else. That loyalty was absolute.

After that conversation Bilbo had sat the young dwarf down to talk to him over a nice cup of tea and a sponge-cake he had seen the servant nick a crust from before. "Eikin, I would like to ask you a question and all I'm expecting is an honest answer. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear but the truth, please. I promise you won't get into any trouble, alright?"

Toying with the crumbs on his plate (the dark-haired dwarf had practically inhaled the cake) Eikin didn't look up. Instead he smiled secretly and shook his head. "No, I am not bothered by you understanding Khuzdul. You're at a disadvantage as things are, Master. I'm just a little worried about the dwarf who taught you. A lot of trouble would come his way if anybody learned about it." When he finally raised his eyes and noticed the hobbit's surprise, he tilted his head. "That's what you wanted to ask me, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," Bilbo admitted. "How did you know?"

"What else is there?" The dwarf looked at his employer, showing slight signs of unease. "I try to be good, keep your chambers … pardon, your smial in order, and I am available whenever you need me. You never said anything, so I thought you were pleased with how I do my work. Did I do something wrong, Master?"

With a grin, the hobbit shook his head. "No, you are perfect, Eikin. I'm just surprised. I considered you a traditionalist like Tamon, because you came at his recommendation. Though he never said anything, I know he would be bothered by an outsider speaking the sacred language of your people."

"But that's it," Eikinskjaldi contradicted empathically. "You are no outsider, Master Bilbo. You're our royal consort and I have never heard you actually speaking Khuzdul. This is your home and I know that you claim the inhabitants of this mountain as 'your' people. It's good that you can understand what is spoken around you. Even, or especially, if it's spoken behind your back."

Smiling softy, Bilbo understood that Tamon indeed had found the perfect support for him. "I didn't reveal who taught me."

Busying himself with collecting the dishes the young servant shook his head. "Please don't, Master. Because while I'm obliged to keep your secrets, the same wouldn't be true for Ori or Master Regin or any other scribe. I don't want to get them into trouble."

Interrupting the dark-haired dwarf in his task, Bilbo revealed softly, "I taught myself. But thank you for trying to protect my friends. I really couldn't have wished for a better manservant than you."

The usually so composed dwarf flushed at that compliment and hid in the kitchen to regain his composure. When half an hour later Nori knocked, with the Master of the Tailors' Guild by his side, Eikin announced them, but left with Nori after the auburn-haired dwarf had talked to their hobbit. Since Eikin now received a regular payment – Bilbo Baggins was a generous employer – he could afford a new outfit for Durin's Day and was quite excited about it.

~ ♥ ~

"It's beautiful, don't get me wrong. But isn't it lacking a shirt?" Bilbo took his time to admire himself in the tall mirror of his dressing chamber. The deep-blue waistcoat was a work of art, embroidered with vines in midnight-blue. The trousers were of the same deep colour that complimented the embroidery. All in all, it was a beautiful ensemble. Still, in the hobbit's opinion it was lacking a dress-shirt and probably even a vest.

Tilting his head, the tailor made some minor adjustments. "I assumed that you wished to use the dress shirt from your wedding. Hence the dark trousers to emphasize it."

"Yes, I guess …" Imagining the creamy-white shirt he had worn only once before, Bilbo nodded. "I think I would like that."

"Excellent," the tailor beamed, helping Bilbo to take off the jacket. "Your attire will be ready in time for the celebration. With your permission I will return in two days, so you can prepare on your own on Durin's Day, your royal highness."

"Much appreciated," the hobbit smiled, seeing the Master Tailor out. Afterwards he returned to his dressing chamber.

 

Opening the last and smallest wardrobe at the back of this room, Bilbo took a deep breath before looking inside. For now, this small armoire only contained two sets of clothes: the creamy trousers, golden vest and deep-blue waistcoat ensemble he had worn on the day of the trial and when facing the slave-traders to buy his husband back; and his wedding attire. The hobbit brushed tenderly over the deep-blue waistcoat that had been made for him for that very special day, before carefully taking it out. He needed mere moments to shed his clothes and redress. It was a little on the loose sides, but still fit.

 

Having met the tailor on his way up, Thorin had an inkling about where to find his beloved. However, his breath caught when he saw Bilbo admiring himself in his wedding outfit. When the hobbit shook his legs to straighten the pants while closing the buttons of his coat, the dwarf couldn't help but step around and sink to his knees in front of Bilbo to smooth the fabric. Smiling, he asked, "What did I do to deserve such a beautiful husband?"

Looking into the shining eyes of his dwarf, Bilbo smiled lovingly. Gently carding his fingers through Thorin's hair, caressing his face, he answered, "By denying your own happiness in favour of helping your people. And the same is true for me. Who could ever imagine such good fortune coming from a contract?"

As always when the reason for him coming to the Shire came up, Thorin frowned. To hide his face, he took Bilbo's hand and placed an adoring kiss on the wrist. Sometimes the boundless love for his husband was still overwhelming for him. He had always hoped to find a friend in the person he was to marry, like his sister, but Bilbo gave him so much more, happiness and joy. The idea to lose that again was unfathomable to him.

The ball was only three days away and still he, Dís, Gloin and the sons of Fundin had no idea if there really was a threat. Still, Thorin only had one concern, "It turned out that the only thing I can't deny myself, since the day we met, is you. Whatever happens, you, beloved, are the only thing I have to keep at all cost."

Bilbo hugged him close, to offer comfort while Thorin kissed Bilbo's soft stomach, making the hobbit giggle. When he had pulled back Bilbo nudged him with a soft, "Is something the matter, my love?" But Thorin shook his head, trying to decide if he should share mere speculations or keep his husband oblivious. He wanted his hobbit to be happy here – something that actually was possible since his family and their friends had built this amazing smial for him. Thorin didn't want him to constantly look over his shoulder.

In the end, however, Balin was right. If Bilbo was a potential target, more than usual, his most effective protection would be knowing what was going on. Nudging him towards the chaise, Thorin sat beside him.  "Beloved, there is … I have to talk to you about a quite serious matter."

When his hobbit sat there, looking at him with such trusting eyes, the prince regretted not having revealed this sooner. In the end they would always have each other before all else. They shouldn't keep secrets, not even with the best of intentions. "There are dwarves in this mountain, not many I promise you, but a few, that might … they possibly preferred not to have a couple of mixed race in line for the throne."

Softly Bilbo stated, "Meaning they are opposed to having a hobbit as royal consort and possibly regent when you are king."

Sighing Thorin nodded. Sadly, this was a part of being a member of the ruling family, his husband had to face that. "I don't want to scare you, but … but someone might want to harm you and …" When the dwarf seemed at loss for words, Bilbo took one of his strands and brushed it back over his husband's shoulder. "I know, Thorin."

"What?" The dwarf looked at his beloved surprised, making Bilbo chuckle. "I am not stupid, you know. Don't you remember why we left for the Shire this spring?"

"Because you wanted to go."

Smiling lovingly, because for Thorin that really might have been the driving reason, Bilbo kissed him. "True, but initially we only considered it because some thought us creating an opposition to your father. Things might have changed, but not that much."

Surprised that his hobbit took all this so calmly, the dwarf asked, "Who told you?"

"Nobody," Bilbo shrugged. "But then, they didn't have to. I didn't realize at the beginning, but whenever I am going somewhere one dwarf or the other accompanies me. Most times it's one of our friends, chatting amicably, and that made it difficult for me to spot it at first. But I am friends with Nori and the good dwarf is not as sneaky as he thinks. If you learn to pay attention to little fauntlings tiptoeing past you on soft soles, a dwarf is easy to spot."

Caressing his husband's face, Thorin asked, "Why are you not worried about this?"

"I'm taking precautions: I don't go unarmed or unarmoured, as per our agreement. I pay attention and in the end I'm glad that I am the target and not you or the boys; or Dís or Thrain, for that matter."

Relieved, at least partially, Thorin pulled his hobbit closer to touch their foreheads, requesting quietly, "Don't say that, don't ever even think that, Bilbo. You are not expendable, not less important than any of us!"

"Thorin, hush," Bilbo soothed his husband. When explaining the reasons for their training, Thorin had shrugged off assassination attempts as an inevitable part of royal life. But now that his husband was involved, he seemed bothered.

"Remember what I told you?" The hobbit whispered comfortingly. "What I promised you the day you told me about Moria? You will never lose me the way you lost them. That I would not face any danger without sufficient protection. Here I have that protection, in our friends and family. You have to trust that."

When Thorin nodded, Bilbo brushed away the raven strands to get a chance to look at his love's face. "I take every precaution I can: weapons, armour, guardians. I won't let them catch me unawares. I swear."

"How can you be so sure?"

Tilting his husband's head up, Bilbo brushed over his forehead with the tip of his nose so that they could look at each other again. "Because I have faith, my love. I believe that after bringing us together though so many trials and tribulations, Yavanna and her husband are protecting us. They, and every dwarf we call friend in this mountain – and despite everything you have heard about those who don't like me, there are many more on our side. And if the situation arises I am sure they will do the right thing."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I can't do this, Thorin. Your father will be so ashamed. I will make you the laughing stock of the entire kingdom!" Bilbo whispered, burrowing into his dwarf's taller frame.


	15. Journals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the books under one arm, he turned to leave before remembering something. "Oh, Bombur, the next time you send one of your cooks to pick me up, remind her to actually enter the library if her cover story demands it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admit it, that was fast. Have fun with the last preparations for Durin's Day :).

"Master Bilbo, my brother asked me to give you this." Ori offered a sizable package as soon as Bilbo entered the library.

Smiling, the royal consort waved for his manservant. "Eikin, please bring that to the Mountaintop. And could you please fetch the blue book from my desk while you're at it?" With a polite nod the dwarf dashed off, leaving Bilbo free to talk to Master Regin without being overheard. Of course the young man in his service only had the best of intentions, but the hobbit didn't want to make his life harder by letting him eavesdrop on things that were not supposed to become public knowledge. "Alright, how far did you get?"

Offering a modified version of some elven script, the Master of Scribes explained, "It's easier if we translate them into one line. Writing vocals above the previous and sometimes the next letter is confusing."

"Usually it's the previous one."

"Usually, yes." The scribe admitted. "But not always. It's hard to pick up on another language so vastly different from our own. Additionally, there seem to be exceptions to nearly every rule. That makes Sindarin even harder to comprehend."

Bilbo challenged him, good naturedly. "Are you telling me that there are no such exceptions in Khuzdul?"

"Of course there are. But not as many!" The dwarf insisted.

Bilbo had a very hard time to hide his smile at that statement, especially since he already knew about lots of exceptions to certain rules in the dwarven language and Bifur still pointed out more regularly. But he couldn't reveal that, so he merely tilted his head, quietly disagreeing with the Master of Scribes.

"Anyway," Master Regin cleared his throat and lifted his chin to regain his aura of superiority. "As I was saying, though the elven language proved to be particularly difficult, we managed to work through the first chapter. Mostly thanks to our young Ori. He seems to have a natural inclination for the language."

Smiling at his young friend, who burrowed his face deeper in the book to hide his flushed cheeks, Bilbo explained, "Ori already read one of my bilingual tomes last year in the Shire. He's eager and open for new things. Maybe that gives him an edge."

Looking at his youngest apprentice, the Master of Scrolls nodded. "We certainly are lucky to have him." After a heartbeat he changed the topic. "Anyway, everything goes according to plan and we will be ready to deliver our annual accounts at the beginning of the next week."

Jotting down the date in his notebook, Bilbo smiled. "Great, see you at the ball tomorrow."

 

Once he had left the library, the hobbit only had to linger for a few moments going over his task-list, before one of Bombur's cooks came bounding around the corner. "Your highness, the chef asked me to get a recipe and then accompany you to the kitchen."

"Excellent," Bilbo smiled, stashing his notebook. "I'm ready to go."

On their way, the hobbit learned that the lady-dwarf by his side had just been promoted from cutting vegetables to helping with the cakes. Not the actual baking, mind you, but helping with the preparation of the ingredients for the toppings, fillings and such. With great enthusiasm, she described the numerous goods they were preparing for the celebration tomorrow and Bilbo felt hungry already when they reached the kitchen. As expected, Bombur was in the middle of things, sampling dishes while yelling instructions to be heard over all the clattering of pots and pans.

With a wide smile, the hobbit made his way through, trying one dish or the other when samples were offered. His worst hunger had been satisfied so that he looked forward to a nice meal, when he finally reached the chef. "It seems that everything is coming around nicely," he praised, making Bombur jump since the dwarf had not heard him approach.

"Bilbo!" The chef beamed. "Yes, everything is great, even better than at your wedding last year, since our harvest goes a long way in filling our pantries! What we are lacking in vegetables we make up with fruits and nuts. It is going to be delicious. But come, come to my office. I can give you our books, your royal highness."

"Bombur," Bilbo groaned. "Not you too." Yet the massive dwarf only winked and led the way.

Since the kitchen was close to the entrance, his office actually had a window. Inhaling the crisp, cold air, the hobbit smiled when Bombur showed him the books, emphasizing excitedly the sheer amount of food available. When they were nearly finished with their overview, two plates with soup and sandwiches were offered. Not one to reject a meal, Bilbo ate, while Bombur finished his explanations. It seemed that the cooks had come out with a small surplus on their accounts. As royal consort, he had the right to use that money however he saw fit. Bilbo already had an idea what to do with it.

With the books under one arm, he turned to leave before remembering something. "Oh, Bombur, the next time you send one of your cooks to pick me up, remind her to actually enter the library if her cover story demands it."

"Bilbo, we …"

Touching his friend's arm comfortingly, he interrupted Bombur's helpless search for an explanation. "It's alright, my friend. Eikinskjaldi might be on top of my schedule, but not even he can predict the exact amount of time my meetings will last. I only had to wait a few moments."

Quietly, Bombur stated, "We just want you to be safe."

"And I share the sentiment. That's why I waited." With a kind smile, Bilbo hugged his friend before leaving. His manservant was already in the corridor. Wordlessly he took the journals, before they headed towards the mines.

~ ♥ ~

"Bilbo, we were expecting you sooner." The Master of Mines approached as soon as they entered.

Happy because of the informal greeting, Bilbo took the offered hand and smiled. "Andvari, I was held up in the kitchen. The feast for Durin's Day is coming around nicely."

"I have no doubt that the chef will exceed all expectations. He always tried to do his best. But only now, with the help of the Shire, is he really able to thrive at his duties."

Surprised, the hobbit looked at the miner. "You seem to hold him in high regard."

Smiling, the dwarf nodded. "It's hard not to, when someone saves you from starvation."

"As far as I understand, he saved the entire mountain. Or at least tried his best."

"True," the miner admitted, leading him down into the mines, so the royal consort could see the new shafts. "But while our work was held in little regard during our meagre years, since no amount of gold can buy food that is simply not available, Master Bombur always made sure that my miners received their fair share, sometimes even a little extra. I think the reason for that were his brother and cousin. But he never favoured them over other workers. If food was available, he distributed it evenly amongst all members of my guild. So you see, someone like him is hard not to like. Especially now that he occasionally sends packages with short-bread. The miners love that." He added with a wink.

"I see," Bilbo chuckled. "Bribery apparently goes a long way in this mountain."

Looking down at the small hobbit by his side, who seemed to have lost most of his fear of being deep within the mountain, Andvari reminded him, "With dwarves, bribery gets you everywhere. It all depends on the currency."

"And with your staff the currency is short-bread."

"Exactly," the miner admitted with a grin.

Beaming, Bilbo looked up. "Dwarves after my own heart. I'll see if we can make these treats a regular thing. But that reminds me, like your mines, the kitchen has a small surplus in their books. I might know what to do with the money, but it's not enough. Now of course we could invest the money you made, into new equipment, but your journals tell me that you already did so three years ago. If you are amenable, I would like to make a suggestion of what to do with your surplus."

"What do you have in mind?"

 

On their way up, the royal consort and the Master of Mines came to an agreement. "Alright, I will put two thirds of your money into your accounts to save them in case some big investments come around next year and take one third for myself."

"Agreed," Master Andvari nodded. "We will deliver our finished books at the end of the next week."

"Great," the hobbit smiled, making an according note. "See you at the ball tomorrow. Have a profitable day."

"The same to you," the dwarf bowed respectfully. "Take care, my friend."

~ ♥ ~

Strictly speaking, the smiths were Thorin's area of expertise, him being skilled at working metal. Still, like every other inhabitant of the mountain, Bilbo could commission pieces. On the long way up from the bottom of the mines to the huge anvils, he calculated his overall budget. The provisions department was funded by the crown exclusively. It was different with the guilds he managed. They mostly funded themselves and only received a small sum, considering their overall expenses, from the royal family. Hence only a small amount of their profit was available to him. The dwarves didn't call them taxes, but that's exactly what they were. Still, if he added a little money from his own accounts, it might be enough for what he had in mind.

Albeit surprised, the smiths were friendly and only needed a few moments to direct him towards the one he needed. Taking his time, the hobbit explained in great detail what he wanted. After a few sketches of the pieces Bilbo intended to commission, the smith in question agreed that he would pay half of the cost up front, the rest upon delivery. With a small grin, the smith who had introduced himself as Earin – not Master Earin, just Earin, thank you very much, your royal highness – insisted that he would be allowed to deliver the goods himself. Understanding that a worker like him would enjoy seeing how his wares were received, Bilbo asked to be contacted when the goods were ready and Eikinskjaldi made a note.

 

On their way to Balin, who had hinted that he needed to talk to the royal consort about the upcoming festivities, the young dwarf asked, "Why are you commissioning tools for the kitchen-staff, instead of letting them buy what they want for themselves?"

"Because it's thoughtful."

"I don't understand. Why is giving them gold less thoughtful?"

This actually was no simple question to answer. In Hobbiton, when someone had done an exceptionally good job, you tried to come up with something to give, to show your appreciation. Maybe a trinket the person had had his eyes on from your own home. Maybe you cooked or baked something. Mostly you cooked or baked something, because with hobbits, food always was a good idea. But now this young dwarf looked at him and Bilbo had a hard time coming up with an explanation as to why the actual gift was not as important as the process of how you got it. That the price did not equal its value, or the reasons why it had been chosen in the first place.

Waiting patiently, the young dwarf checked a small leather-bound book to stay on top of Bilbo's schedule and suddenly the hobbit knew how to make him understand. "This book, you were delighted when I gave it to you."

Enthusiastically Eikinskjaldi nodded.

"Why?"

Looking down at the cover, the young dwarf seemed to ponder over that question for a few moments, apparently not fazed the slightest about this change of subject. "Because it showed me that you approved of the work I am doing for you. Even more: that you cherished it and wanted to give me not only the chance, but also the means to do it right."

"Exactly," Bilbo confirmed. "And do you think you would have been as happy with me just giving you a few coins? You have to know that this little book was not that expensive."

Staring at his pocket-book for a few more moments, Eikinskjaldi shook his head. "No, because a small bonus might have indicated that you liked my work. But the book showed me that you wanted me to continue doing it the best I can."

With a small smile the hobbit tilted his head, indicating that he whole heartedly agreed with his manservant. It took the dwarf a few moments, but finally his eyes lit up. "Oh, oh, I understand!"

 

When they reached the council chamber where Balin, Dori and Master Kiron had laid out their plans for the festivities, Bilbo gestured towards the Mountaintop, addressing Eikin. "Carry up the books and then you can take the rest of the afternoon off. I'm sure you want to prepare for Durin's Day."

"But, Master Bilbo …" Eikinskjaldi protested.

Yet the royal consort would have none of that. "We're close to the royal wing already. I doubt anything will happen here. Also, I expect my husband to join me within the hour. If not, I will have Balin or Dori accompany me home. Alright?"

Clearly torn between his desire to make some last-minute preparations and supporting his master, the dark-haired dwarf looked up the stairs, to Bilbo, to the lower regions of the mountains and then upstairs again. With a chuckle, since the manservant looked like a particularly enraptured watcher of a ballgame, Bilbo ended his indecisiveness by giving him a small shove. "Deliver the books and then buzz off. I don't want to see you again today. You did good. Now go and get ready."

With a proud smile the dwarf took the stairs two at a time, hopping out of sight quickly. With a shake of his head, Bilbo entered the council chamber. Sometimes the boy was quite overenthusiastic.

~ ♥ ~

As expected, the rest of his afternoon was less than exciting. The First Councillor and the Majordomo had gone over the schedule repeatedly, but only now did the Master of Traditions explain, "Of course, you remember that the opening of the ball is done by the king and queen, or princess Dís in this case, and all couples that were married the previous year."

Throat going dry, Bilbo croaked. "What?"

"You have to dance," Balin clarified. "But don't worry. It's the same dance as on your wedding day."

" **What?** " The hobbit squeaked. "But I haven't practised these steps in a year!"

"We'll do it now," Dori offered. "We are nearly through anyway. So we can call for tea, then practise and still have you home before supper."

"You want to dance with me." The hobbit tried to clarify.

"Yes."

"Right now?"

"Well, not exactly right now," Dori relented. "We have to finish this first." He gestured towards the last list they had to go over.

Groaning, Bilbo hid his face. "But we don't even have music."

Patting the hobbit's shoulder comfortingly, Balin assured him, "We'll get music. Now just let me order tea and then we can wrap up the last details."

After reviewing the previously reviewed details one last time, Bilbo munched on a biscuit before draining two cups of tea. Sure, he and Thorin had been able to go through that particular dance-routine perfectly on their wedding day, but the hobbit still was able to recall the countless hours of training beforehand to get him there. To say he was nervous when he, Dori, Balin and Master Kiron entered a small hall that usually served as audience chamber for royal visitors, would be an understatement.

Bofur, obviously already finished with his daily tasks, was waiting, twirling his flute between his fingers. Balin and Dori decided to dance first to jog Bilbo's memory. While the hobbit realized that he could remember all the steps, he was not sure if he would be able to copy them.

Nervously he stepped up to his silver-haired friend and allowed him to take the lead. Like last year, Master Kiron had taken his time to interpret the gestures for Bilbo, so the hobbit would understand why he had to move a hand, his foot or his head a certain way. It all wove together into a retelling of the Legend of Durin the Deathless. But for the life of it, the hobbit couldn't make it work today. Sure, Dori was a strong partner and could ease him into the steps, but there was nothing fluent or elegant about it.

An hour later, Bilbo had the motions memorized once again and though his dance partner was full of encouragement, the royal consort could see Balin and the Master of Traditions trading a gaze, before his elderly friend shook his head nearly imperceptibly. He wasn't good, he knew that. The thought of disappointing his friends and embarrassing the king made his stomach clench.

~ ♥ ~

When Thorin entered the room the guard had directed him to, he felt hot jealousy flaring up in his guts. There was his husband, smiling up at Dori, joining him in the traditional dance that had always been reserved for his parents and the wedded pairs of the kingdom. Last year, knowing that his hobbit had to practice in advance, it had not overly bothered the dwarf to know him dancing with another. They had not even been married. But now, watching his husband with another partner, joined in a dance that was supposed to be exclusively theirs, burned through him. At least until Thorin took a closer look. His hobbit was smiling, as the situation demanded, but that smile was strained and did not reach his eyes. The prince did not like that.

The dance-partners followed the steps alright, but Bilbo seemed stiff and uncomfortable, not at all the relaxed and joyous creature Thorin knew him to be when it came to parties and dancing. His mentor Balin and the Master of Traditions seemed to be aware of that as well, since they were subtly shaking their heads at each other, something that seemed to bother his hobbit even further when he noticed. Bilbo was unhappy and that simply wouldn't do.

"Excuse me," Thorin stepped up to the pair the moment the music stopped. Pulling his husband into his arms, the prince smiled at their friend and Bofur only tipped his head, patiently waiting for them to continue. He didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry, so the dwarf took his time to rub his stiff and anxious husband's back comfortingly, trying to expel his nervous energy.

"I can't do this, Thorin. Your father will be so ashamed. I will make you the laughing stock of the entire kingdom!" Bilbo whispered, burrowing into his dwarf's taller frame.

"That's not true, beloved," the prince soothed. "You already know the steps and I know how good a dancer you are. I danced with you last year and countless times in the Shire. You just don't feel comfortable here." And the moment Thorin said that, he knew it to be true. Having compared their schedule over breakfast, he was well aware that Bilbo had not left the mountain all day. A lack of sunlight, combined with his concerns of letting his family down, would make this situation far more stressful for the hobbit than it had to be. "You know what, come with me."

Taking his partner's hand, they entered the royal wing and went up the stairs until they reached their smial. The other dwarves followed without protest. When they stepped into Bilbo's garden, the sun was already touching the horizon, painting the sky with beautiful colours. Taking a moment to admire the beauty of their home, the dwarf stayed wrapped around his hobbit until he felt Bilbo centring himself. He then nodded to Bofur who chose a new song, with a similar tempo, yet a different melody. Gently turning his husband around, the dwarf reached for his hand and waist before slowly leading him into the steps.

Thorin, Frerin and Dís had learned this, prior to their first public appearance. They had trained extensively, until they had the dance committed to memory. But no matter the occasion, these steps had never felt as right for Thorin as they did now that he was able to follow them with his husband – a husband who now looked at him with relief in his eyes, once again making him smile. He had known Bilbo to be good at this. His hobbit just had to concentrate on what was important, and not everything that went with it. As a Baggins - so Bilbo's relatives in the Shire had shared on numerous occasions - he was an exceptionally good dancer anyway.

The spouses barely noticed the melody coming to an end, too lost in each other. They didn't say good-bye when their friends left the smial with a satisfied grin. It seemed that the only thing amiss had been the right partner. The opening of the ball would go smoothly. Balin, Kiron and Dori were sure of it.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Promise me!" Thorin demanded, capturing Bilbo's face and looking at him coercively. "Promise me that you will run given the chance."  
> Covering Thorin's hands with his own, Bilbo nodded, "I promise. The moment I consider my chances of survival better by running than with fighting I will do exactly that."


	16. Durin's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thorin opened his eyes again, Bilbo saw more than concern, more than fear. His dwarf had always been able to conceal his emotions if the situation called for it. Yet by now, the hobbit had learned how to read him. There was terror in Thorin's eyes. A feeling the hobbit remembered all too well. In his dreams Bilbo still heard the wolf howling, giving chase to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, 90 minutes to midnight and I receive another, brilliant birthday gift: the next chapter to share with you.  
> Thanks you Redone, my marvellous beta, who won't let me get away with anything and helps me to make this story the best it can be.  
> I hope you enjoy :)

The next morning after breakfast, Thorin and Bilbo decided to relocate their training session to one of the inner valleys since their teachers wouldn't be available. They had become better at fighting side by side, but still were far from the smooth interactions Thorin had with Dwalin. Though miffed about this in the beginning, Bilbo had reminded himself that those two had fought many battles side by side, so it was only natural for them to be attuned to each other.

To be able to provide the same support as the bald warrior, the hobbit had watched and listened, had studied his husband's movements in a way he had not paid attention to before. Hence he had become better at predicting his love's actions and had learned to adjust to them. Even Nori had noticed and had praised his improvement.

Today they would have nobody to fight but each other. Leaving through the back-door, Thorin this time with shoes on, they made their way over cliffs and peaks that Bilbo had explored after Círdan's departure. Climbing mountains was different than climbing trees – but not that different, the hobbit had discovered. It was all about knowing your surroundings. So he and his dwarf walked hand in hand, before climbing down again, reaching the ground not far from the entrance of the Raven Valley.

Thorin realized that the path back was barred to them, because while on their way to the valley they could just jump down, on the way back up they would need to climb up to the ledge where the path started, and that would be difficult. Well, maybe one of the miners would be willing to help with that. Now that the smial was finished they had a little time on their hands again.

After offering intestines to the ravens (Bilbo had argued beforehand that when visiting a friend, it wouldn’t do to arrive empty-handed) they took their positions and started sparring. When the hobbit made the first hit, he whooped with joy. At the second he started to pay attention to Thorin's face. And after the third, Bilbo sheathed his dagger.

When his husband tilted his head questioningly, Bilbo only shook his head and sat down on a small mound, patting the ground. Thorin followed the unspoken invitation. His dwarf's irritation with the interrupted lesson prompted Bilbo's question. "What is it, my sweet? I certainly, have not yet reached a level where I can best you in a fight. You're distracted and inattentive. If I were Dwalin, you would already be littered with bruises."

"Yes, you are right of course. I am sorry, Bilbo." Thorin did not even look up at that apology, glaring at the grass in front of him.

"Hobbit mighty warrior," came a croak from above. "Beat powerful dwarf in battle!"

Turning around, both could see nearly the entire population of Raven Valley, perched up on the glittering walls, watching their training. Offering a treat as was expected of him, Bilbo allowed Vár to perch on his leg, opening a nut for her. "That's not true and you know it."

Inspecting the nut, the raveness replied, "Right, dwarf stupid!" She picked at the treat, careful not to hurt Bilbo.

"Vár!"

Chuckling under his breath, because the matriarch of the local raven clan actually had a point, Thorin reached out slowly and brushed over her back. "No, Vár is right. It's stupid to allow myself to be distracted when fighting. Also, it's demeaning towards you. You have become a good fighter over the last two years. You deserve an attentive partner."

Brushing away a wayward strand that had escaped Thorin's ponytail, Bilbo shook his head. "I'm not after an apology. I want to know what is bothering you. If you respect me as a fighter **and** as a husband, it's the least I deserve."

Turning away again, Thorin nodded. "You're right of course."

Gently reaching for his lover's chin, turning his face, Bilbo just sat there and waited, allowing his husband to come around in his own time. It took the dwarf several long moments before he admitted reluctantly, "I had a nightmare. I'm afraid that something horrible is going to happen to you."

"It might," Bilbo agreed, despite being aware that this was the last thing his lover wanted to hear. "Today, tomorrow, next week, in a year or a decade. Something horrible could happen to me any time; or to you, or anybody else we hold dear. But you can't let your life be ruled by that fear. From the moment I came here, you, Dwalin, Balin and Nori made it abundantly clear that I am not in the Shire any more. That living as a member of the royal family can and will be dangerous. I have accepted that and taken all the necessary precautions. Now you have to trust me to be as well prepared as I can possibly be. Otherwise you will drive yourself crazy!"

Closing his eyes, Thorin drew a deep breath, clenching his firsts, forcing himself to admit, "I just can't bear the thought of losing you."

When Thorin opened his eyes again, Bilbo saw more than concern, more than fear. His dwarf had always been able to conceal his emotions if the situation called for it. Yet by now, the hobbit had learned how to read him. There was terror in Thorin's eyes. A feeling the hobbit remembered all too well. In his dreams he still heard the wolf howling, giving chase to his family. At least on occasion.

And suddenly he understood. After everything his beloved dwarf had been though, all the people he had lost, the very idea of losing another person dear to him was horrible for Thorin. His fear just manifested around Bilbo, because he was the least defensible person of them all. Leaning against his husband, drawing comfort from his embrace, the hobbit wanted to promise that nothing bad would happen, but he couldn't because you could never know. "You can't put me in a gilded cage, Thorin. I'm learning, I'm improving and though I might never be as good as the rest of our family, I can defend myself by now. At least by running away."

"Promise me!" Thorin demanded, capturing Bilbo's face and looking at him coercively. "Promise me that you will run given the chance."

Covering Thorin's hands with his own, Bilbo nodded, "I promise. The moment I consider my chances of survival better by running than by fighting, I will do exactly that."

Breathing out, Thorin nodded. "Thank you."

Hugging his husband fiercely, the hobbit suggested, "What do you say, we get back home and I whip up something for elevenses? There is nothing to do today but to prepare for the celebration in the evening. We can take our time."

With a faint smile, Thorin helped his hobbit to his feet. "Good idea." Yes, food and some calming tea surely would help. The dwarf swallowed a groan when he realized, trailing after his beloved, that he too was slowly turning into a hobbit.

~ ♥ ~

They made their way through the kingdom unnoticed and enjoyed a quiet meal at home. Afterwards Bilbo coaxed his distressed dwarf outside for a little relaxation. Wrapped up in their favourite quilt, the couple enjoyed their pipes. At least until a guard entered, or in this case exited, the smial with a message for Thorin.

Thrain was summoning his son. As soon as Thorin was ready for the ball, his father wanted to see him. So Bilbo dutifully braided his beloved’s hair and helped him into the appropriate garments, Thorin's wardrobe having been delivered along with his. By now the Master tailor had learned that Bilbo and Thorin preferred to take care of their own attires on the day of a major event.

Drawing a calming breath, the hobbit then started to prepare himself once he had sent his husband on his way. After a relaxing bath and braiding his own hair, he carefully untangled the headband that Thorin had made for him in their first year in the Shire, laying it out on the dresser. Since they lived in a mountain, wearing flowers in his hair was not practical; but Bilbo would not forego these traditions just because he was surrounded by dwarves.

But before he could think of accessories, he had to take care of the proper attire. Nori's offering, combined with a white undershirt, went on first. The dress-shirt from his wedding garments combined with the dark-blue pants made Bilbo look quite respectable, if he said so himself. Last was the waistcoat, yet this particular piece didn't want to close properly. With a dejected sigh, the hobbit ran his hands over the beautiful embroidery. The tailor had put so much effort into this piece and it was truly breath-taking with the intricate stitches. But still, he couldn't wear it if it was slightly too small.

Well, the royal consort decided, he would find other occasions to show off that particular waistcoat. Reaching for his wedding suit, he traded the dark-blue trousers for the light ones that matched the shirt, and put on a vest and a jacket. As expected, the rich, blue coat fitted perfectly. If he had to reject one special attire for another, his wedding garments really were the only sensible choice. Though Bilbo did not like it, he also sheathed his weapons, since he had promised his husband to take all necessary precautions. Looking at himself in the mirror, a deep sadness washed over him. This was New Year's Eve, by dwarven reckoning – a joyous day to reminisce over the past and celebrate the future. How very much had his life changed, that he was now attending festivities armed?

As expected, a guard was already waiting for him at the entrance of the royal wing. There really was no use to put one at their door, Bilbo had argued after moving into his smial, since there really was only one way up. The dwarf who accompanied him fortunately took his mind off things by chatting about the festival that would start in a few hours, effectively dispelling Bilbo's glumness. He took a calming breath, when the door to Thrain's parlour closed behind him. And though Dís, beautifully clad and made up, offered a cup of tea, going over some last minute changes made the hobbit all the more aware that he was not in Hobbiton any longer. Here everything had a schedule. Instead of eating when they felt like, and dancing when they didn't feel like eating, Bilbo was reminded of the program he had to follow. He was part of the royal family now, he couldn't afford to make a mistake.

~ ♥ ~

Other dwarves were already mingling and nipping on some delicious-looking canapés when the royal family entered the great hall. As always, Fíli and Kíli had been a little late, but their flawless appearance made up for their delay. Like Bilbo, they had chosen the clothes they had worn on their uncles’ wedding day. Fíli was in a beautiful blue attire with silver trimmings, Kíli in silver garments that made his hair shine, with blue trimmings. For once even their braids were perfect with no hair out of place, though Bilbo couldn't suppress a smile upon realizing that both wore the copper beads Thorin had made for them in the Shire.

Now they entered the great hall two by two and Bilbo had to steel himself not to let his nerves get the better of him. True, he had been the centre of attention when entering this hall the year before, but on that day he had only had eyes for his husband to be. Things were different now. Yet when Bilbo hesitated, he felt Thorin's strong hand covering his and the boys whispered behind him, "A respectable Baggins does not slouch." "Nor does he linger at the door like a button-seller." "What would your grandmother think, my love?"

Apparently Nana's advice had been committed to memory by his favourite dwarves. So the hobbit took a deep breath, straightened and followed Dís and Thrain with his head held high.

There was a speech, made by the king, in Khuzdul of course, describing the achievements of the last year. Bilbo tried not to react to what was said. Then there was an excellent meal and then, finally, dancing. As expected, Thrain led Dís to the dancefloor, followed by Thorin and Bilbo and one other pair Bilbo only knew because the female was working in Dori's teashop on occasion. They positioned themselves in a triangle and when the music started, they fell into the steps as one.

It was harder to concentrate here than it had been in his garden. But when Thorin prompted him, "Look at me, beloved, solely at me and it will be over before you know it," Bilbo was able to forget about their audience for a few blessed moments and got lost in his husband's loving eyes. He blinked a few times to find back to reality once the music stopped. With the first dance off the table, Bilbo could finally start to enjoy himself. There was laughter and drinking and dancing and though Thorin pointedly returned to his side every hour, the hobbit had fun mingling with his guild masters, several lady-dwarves and Fíli and Kíli who insisted that they had as much right to dance with their uncle as their other uncle did.

When Bilbo asked if they did not want to dance with their mother, both gazed towards Dís but shook their heads in unison. Following their line of sight, the hobbit realized why. Though Thrain had always insisted on Dís and Dwalin being discreet about their relationship, the pair did a pretty bad job tonight. Dwalin looked at his lady full of adoration and pride and Dís … well. "She never looked at father that way," Kíli whispered and Fíli added after a heartbeat, when he noticed Bilbo's frown, "She loved him and they were happy, good parents who found joy in raising me and Kíli. But they were never like this."

"How do you know?" Bilbo asked but Fíli only shrugged.

"I remember smiles and laughter. Them chasing me around the house or looking at Kíli with so much love in their eyes. But though they were proud of the family they had and devoted to each other, I don't remember a single moment when they looked at each other like this."

Thinking about it, their hobbit suggested, "Maybe they did when you didn't watch?" The idea that a child thought their parents not madly in love with each other didn't sit well with him. That was not how families were supposed to be.

"It wouldn't matter anyway." Kíli decided after a moment. "Even if they were making heart-eyes at each other in private, it still wouldn't have been the same. Because mum and Mister Dwalin look like that every time they are together."

When the hobbit looked at his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the topic, the older brother touched his shoulder. "You're forgetting something, Bilbo. We're members of the royal family. We marry to establish alliances, for peacekeeping or," he smiled mischievously, "or to bind us to another race, to gain food to keep our people alive. What you and uncle have is the greatest blessing imaginable. But as Durins we don't expect to marry for love. Our parents were happy to have each other. They were best friends and our mother grieved deeply when father died. But it was not like it is with Mister Dwalin. And we won't take a single moment of it away from them."

Shocked, Bilbo looked at his boys. "Is that what you are expecting for yourselves? To be sold for a political cause?"

"It was what we were expecting when we came to the Shire." Kíli reminded him impassively, oblivious to the flinching Bilbo put a lot of effort into supressing. "As heirs to the throne we are prepared to take grandfather's place one day. Yet we always expected to be allowed to stay together. In the Shire …"

Fíli picked up when Kíli drifted off, brushing the back of his fingers over his brother’s hand to comfort him. "In the Shire, if you chose one, we had to prepare ourselves for the possibility of being separated. That's what scared us the most."

Recalling the horrible days of Kíli's sickness, where nothing but his brother had been able to make him better, Bilbo demanded to know. "What would you have done? If I had claimed one of you as my husband instead of Thorin? Would you really have been able to part?"

Smiling at some dwarves who passed them by, engaging in small talk when they lingered, the trio needed some time to return to the topic at hand. Once amongst themselves again, the brothers shook their heads. "No, we wouldn't have been able to part." "The brother not chosen would have offered himself as your servant, free of charge if that's what it would have taken."

"But that's horrible!"

Smiling at each other, the young dwarven princes leaned down and kissed Bilbo's cheeks, whispering confident. "No, Bilbo, it wouldn't have been.” “Not with you."

~ ♥ ~

The evening continued quite pleasantly. The music became quieter, the food sparser and soon midnight was drawing close. Though Bilbo saw one of the merchants arguing with the king, he didn't put too much thought into it. The dwarf had most likely complained about the unfair treatment he had received from either the hobbit or the Lady Dís. As long as they were not willing to abide by the rules of sharing their expenses, things wouldn't change, no matter how much they protested. Dís was far too stubborn to give in.

Bilbo could only shake his head at them, enjoying a few late night snacks leaning against one of the columns at the side. How very different were these people from hobbits. In the Shire there would be dancing and laughing under the open sky. And though everybody seemed to have a good time, the atmosphere was noticeably quieter than before.

He did not notice the dwarf creeping up to him from behind and only his manservant shouting, while flying towards him from a few feet away, made him turn just in time to see the dagger aiming for his chest. Him turning, combined with Eikinskjaldi bodily throwing the attacker to the floor made the dwarf slash his side instead of embedding the weapon in his neck, as he had obviously planned.

Having trained swift reactions into himself, Bilbo had his own blade out in the blink of an eye, defending himself from another attack that seemed to happen in the same heartbeat. A dwarf tried to force a small axe down on him, while the hobbit held his ground by blocking it with his short dagger, clenching his teeth against the overwhelming force he faced.

"We won't start another year with an abomination like you …" The rest of his speech was stolen from his attacker’s lips when Thorin hit him from the side, slapping away his weapon and closing his hands around the male's throat. Gazing towards his first foe, Bilbo saw his servant pulling his feet out from under him, wrestling him to the ground with practised movements.

Apart from the choking noises and the prince's harsh breathing, the hall resembled a grave.

Putting a small hand on his husband's shoulder, Bilbo demanded, "Let him go, Thorin."

Yet his dwarf seemed beside himself, growling viciously, "He tried to kill you," squeezing tighter.

"I know, but I don't want the life of one misguided soul on your conscience." Pulling back a little more insistently, the hobbit called out, "Dwalin?" Since obviously all of 'his' dwarves had formed a perimeter around him, blocking everybody else. The bald dwarf was by his side in the blink of an eye. Once his guard was there, Thorin was finally able to step back.

Staying close to his husband, Bilbo looked at Eikinskjaldi before searching for Nori's eyes. The trio traded a barely perceptible nod before the young dwarf hefted the first attacker to his feet as well and followed after Dwalin. Thorin clutched Bilbo to his chest protectively, his back to the crowd, trying to discover if his beloved was harmed.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, away from prying eyes, Nori allowed his concern for their hobbit to show and approached Bilbo. "Are you alright? They did not harm you, did they?" In the service of Thrain the spymaster had learned that most royals would rather hide their injuries than appear weak in front of their subjects, so he was worried that their hobbit was so concerned with appearing strong for his new family that he would neglect a possible wound.  
> "No, they didn't, contrary to you!" Bilbo lashed out distancing himself from the auburn-haired dwarf.


	17. A Spy in Bilbo's Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning would be dawning soon when Bilbo instructed his manservant to fetch Nori for a little chat, and guide him to the salon they used for semi-official meetings. Though the hobbit would have preferred this conversation to take place amongst but the three of them, he was aware that getting Thorin to leave him was as impossible as sending Thrain away. When Nori arrived, Bilbo directed, "Close the door please, Eikinskjaldi." He pointedly ignored the flinch when he called the young dwarf by his full name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, oh, someone is in deeeeeeep trouble. Enjoy :).

Once the prince had made sure that they were sufficiently protected, he turned around and frantically started to run his hands over Bilbo, searching for injuries. "He hit you. I saw it! Are you wounded? Where are you wounded?"

"I'm not wounded, my love," The hobbit tried to soothe his husband, reaching for his fluttering hands. "Calm down, I'm perfectly alright." Since his family had made it through the protective circle of friends, Bilbo repeated himself, "I am fine, really!" to prove it, he turned to the side, displaying the slash his clothes had suffered. "See, no harm done."

"You're wearing chainmail."

"Yes, Fíli."

"Under your wedding-suit."

"Yes, Kíli."

"For someone who insisted on not wearing armour to his own wedding, you’ve surely come a long way, Bilbo." Thrain smiled, as relieved as the rest of his family to know their hobbit unharmed.

Touching his forehead to his husband so both could calm, Bilbo told them, "I promised to take every precaution imaginable. This is me keeping my word."

"Well," Thrain decided, "Let's make sure that our subjects know what happens when they attack you." At his gesture the company parted and he stepped forward, his family fanning out around him. "An attack on a member of the royal house of Durin is considered treason, no matter the race of the person attacked. So the lives of the dwarves who had acted so shortsightedly tonight are forfeit. However, since they attacked our royal consort, I will leave final judgement to him." He turned around and nodded towards Bilbo.

Reaching for a glass from the tray Dís had hastily organized, Bilbo stepped forth, Thorin hovering at his back. "This is the night where we bid farewell to the past and welcome the future. Let this act of violence be noted as the final chapter of a previous year and let us raise our glasses with blessings to Mahal and his wife Yavanna, as first action in the new one. We have a lot to be thankful for. So for those who are willing to see it, I think it is safe to say that we are on a path into a brighter future. Together! In the spirit of hope and renewal, blessed by both your creator and mine, I wish all of you a very happy New Year!"

Gazing over his shoulder, Bilbo saw that the rest of his family had been able to pick up glasses for themselves and were joining him in his toast. In unison they lifted their drinks. "A very happy New Year to all of you!"

~ ♥ ~

For the rest of the night they all smiled and behaved as if nothing had happened, as if the attempt on the life of the royal consort was not overly concerning as long as the victim was unharmed. Still, the company stayed close to the royal family for the rest of the evening, trading places when propriety demanded from one of them to leave Bilbo or Thorin's side.

Morning would be dawning soon when Bilbo instructed his manservant to fetch Nori for a little chat, and guide him to the salon they used for semi-official meetings. Though the hobbit would have preferred this conversation to take place amongst but the three of them, he was aware that getting Thorin to leave him was as impossible as sending Thrain away. When Nori arrived, Bilbo directed, "Close the door please, Eikinskjaldi." He pointedly ignored the flinch when he called the young dwarf by his full name.

Finally, away from prying eyes, Nori allowed his concern for their hobbit to show and approached Bilbo. "Are you alright? They did not harm you, did they?" In the service of Thrain the spymaster had learned that most royals would rather hide their injuries than appear weak in front of their subjects, so he was worried that their hobbit was so concerned with appearing strong for his new family that he would neglect a possible wound.

"No, they didn't, contrary to you!" Bilbo lashed out distancing himself from the auburn-haired dwarf. "Did you really expect me not to make the connection when I see Eikinskjaldi fight?" The prominent guilt on the young dwarf's face was the last proof the hobbit had needed.

"Bilbo, please, you have to understand!" The spymaster started, only to be interrupted harshly.

"No, Nori, **you** have to understand. When I found Eikinskjaldi going over my books I didn't say anything, because they don't contain any secrets. Anyone can read them. Though I would rather prefer to share them after they are finished. When he snooped out my schedules and appointments, I let him, because I thought he just wanted to establish his position. He was really helpful, so I allowed him to accompany me nearly everywhere. But in the end this was not about helping me but you!"

Completely confused about what was going on, the king shared a puzzled look with his son before stepping between the two opponents. "Could someone please enlighten me on what is going on?" His tone made it perfectly clear that this was not a request.

Unsure if an honest answer would fan Bilbo's ire further, Nori hesitated. The hobbit, though, was beyond angry already and had entered the territory of ice cold fury. In a quiet voice, which somehow felt even more dangerous than his initial shouting, he explained, "Nori put a spy in my home."

Being called a spy apparently didn't sit well with the young dwarf who had lingered at the side. He tried to approach Bilbo, but Thorin wouldn't let him come close. "Please, Master Bilbo, it's not like that!"

Turning towards him, the hobbit stated stonily, "Until now I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I want to believe that you were just a means to an end for Nori. Don't make this worse on yourself by lying to me."

"But …"

"No!" Bilbo stopped any explanation that would potentially infuriate him further. "The day we started our training, Nori explained to me that the fighting style he was about to teach me, was exclusive to him and his people. Those who use brain rather than brawn. You fight exactly the same way. Do you really think that I do not know what Nori is doing for Thrain, that I would not make the connection? Do you both think me so stupid?"

"Bilbo, please, that's not …"

"No, Nori, it's not. It's not alright. If you needed something from me, did I ever turn you away? Was there ever any kind of information I did not reveal when asked? If I don't tell you something, I need you to trust me that it's not yours to know, not put a spy in my home to discover it. Because, as sorry as I am to say this, we can't be friends without trust!"

Aware that he had been put into a difficult position, but not caring because he had considered the risk well worth the gain, Eikinskjaldi stepped away from Thorin, circling the group to support his master. "Please, Bilbo … Master Baggins, give us a chance to explain."

Ready to turn away, Bilbo felt Thorin's hands on his shoulders all of a sudden. Quietly the dwarf breathed into his ear. "Your blood is boiling; I can feel it. But do you think this is the right situation to let your Took side reign?"

Taking a deep breath, the hobbit tried to settle down, but was barely able to slow his heart since he felt so very betrayed. Leaning into his husband, willing Thorin's calm into himself, he whispered, "I hear a single lie, we're done."

Though Thrain was slightly surprised that a hobbit consort had so easily discovered the true nature of his spymaster, he was aware that all their lives would be infinitely harder if a member of his family started to work against his most trusted advisor. So he directed the group towards an unused suite of rooms. This way they at least had a chance to get comfortable and settle this in peace.

Trying to make things right, because losing their hobbit's trust was not something the 'information officer' wanted to consider, Nori stated, "It is true that I have worked with Eikinskjaldi before. He's like Fíli and Kíli: young, clever but most of all easily underestimated. But I did not choose him to become your manservant."

Picking up the tale, the young dwarf explained, "I volunteered for the job. Náli, the mother Master Dwalin tries to encourage to get to know Isengar, so that he and her daughter can get along, is my older sister. Last spring, when she gave birth, both she and my little niece were sick. Though my brother-in-law is a hunter and tried to get as much fresh meat on the table as possible, it didn't do much good. We all were terribly afraid that the baby wouldn't make it through the winter. Then you came. All of a sudden there was fresh and healthy food, and my sister and my niece grew stronger every day." Looking at his hands before raising his eyes again, Eikinskjaldi took a deep breath before he continued. "Then came the wedding, where you hid your husband from view, but still took him in front of the entire kingdom to honour our traditions. I realized that you had made a lot of enemies that day and listening to the people I understood that you would continue to do so, simply by being yourself. So I approached Master Nori with the request to be assigned as your personal guard."

"Then why aren't you? My guard I mean."

"Because you don't like having guards," Nori reminded him. "We knew that Tamon was looking for a manservant for you. Eikin read up and trained all skills necessary to excel at the job. He perfected his aptitude until Tamon had no choice but to pick him from all available candidates, since he was the best."

"But …" Now slightly unsure about his master's verdict since everything was out in the open, the young dwarf stammered. "But what I told you in the garden was true. My loyalty lies with you, Master Bilbo, and I would never betray your trust!"

Having calmed down slightly because the explanation actually made sense, the hobbit inquired, "So, now you are working as my manservant. You keep an overview over my assignments, handle errands and wash my dirty laundry. But for what?"

"For being there when someone makes an attempt on your life."

"Why was I not informed about this?" Thrain asked after that revelation. It wasn't that he didn't agree with Nori's decision. Bilbo having been assigned a personal guard was long since overdue. But the way the spymaster had gone about it didn't sit well with him.

"Because I didn't want to put you into a position where you had to lie to your son-in-law, your majesty." Nori explained.

"I'm …" Bilbo started, but found that he really had no idea how he felt about all this. When Thorin brushed back a lock of his hair that had tangled in his headband, he smiled when his husband suggested, "It has been a long day and an even longer night. Why don't we go to bed and take our time to think about all this tomorrow?"

Wordlessly Bilbo nodded and the spouses left.

 

When Nori and his young protégé turned leave as well, Thrain held them back. "Master Nori, you did well today. Bilbo is unharmed and in the end that is all that counts."

"Except that he might reject all protection from now on," Nori sounded concerned. "In that case the price of secrecy was much too high."

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo and Thorin sat in front of their smial, tightly wrapped into their quilt, watching the first sunrise of the year. Quietly Thorin inquired, "Are you really that angry at Nori for what he did?"

"No," the hobbit admitted after a while. "But at the way he went about it. There are so few dwarves in this kingdom that have my absolute trust. Having one of them lying to me … that's … I can't deal with that, Thorin. I really can't."

Watching the sun painting the sky, dyeing the land in the most beautiful colours, Bilbo sighed after a while. "Let's go to bed, my sweet. In a few hours everything will look different."

"In a moment," his husband promised quietly, enjoying the tranquil morning of the New Year too much to abandon it so soon. When he was finally ready to go inside, his hobbit was fast asleep on his shoulder. Tenderly, he pulled his beloved into his arms and carried him to their bedroom. Thorin remembered the first night when this had happened. How determined he had been to only steal five minutes at the hobbit's side, because he and Bilbo had not been together at the time. But they had slept through the night wrapped in this quilt nevertheless. He kissed his partner, feeling blessed that he could crawl into bed after him and wrap around him from behind without a guilty conscience. This really was the best way to start a year – short of getting married of course.

~ ♥ ~

The dwarf had to revise this opinion, when he was woken by the most pleasurable sensation in his groin. Instinctively he pushed into the wet warmth, only to feel it disappear a moment later. When he opened his eyes, he found his hobbit hovering between his legs, breathing over his cock.

"You are awake then. Good. I wanted to introduce you to a tradition amongst hobbits that says if you have mind blowing sex first thing on New Year's Day, you will have mind blowing sex all through the year."

Though there was barely any blood left in his brain, still Thorin managed one sentient thought, "You are making this up." There was literally no way that a race that barely kissed in public had such a tradition.

Licking a strip over the length of Thorin's shaft, making his lover groan, Bilbo grinned mischievously. "I do. But that does not mean that such a tradition should not exist. Especially in this smial." Then he swallowed his husband down to the root once again.

Still tired and half dazed, Thorin had to call upon his will not to finish that very moment. With clenched teeth, he arched on the bed until his hobbit took pity on him and pulled back. Breathing heavily, the dwarf fell back into the covers, only to have Bilbo crouching lower still, teasing his back entrance. Tossing and turning, nearly overwhelmed by sensation, Thorin was barely able to follow his beloved's guidance when the hobbit nudged him to turn around. Revelling in the friction their sheets provided, the dwarf moved in unison with his husband, groaning when he approached his peak.

Yet the clever, little hobbit pulled him up to his knees before Thorin could find completion. Soothing the hoarse protests, Bilbo lathered his husband's back with adoring kisses. Crouching closer, he reached for the oil on their bedside table, trailing over his dwarf's spine with slick fingers.

Clawing at the bedding, Thorin groaned hoarsely. "Get on with it, Bilbo, please!" He really wasn't sure that he could take more teasing after his hobbit had given him so much pleasure already. He wanted more, wanted them to be together right that moment.

Biting the enticing backside of his husband playfully, Bilbo chided. "I will go at whatever pace I like! If you complain again, I will fill you up with our toy and we will have lunch and maybe tea before I even think about touching you again."

That outrageous idea, combined with two fingers entering him from behind, had Thorin choke out a cry, while spurting over the bedding. Chuckling, Bilbo stilled his fingers, slowly stretching him. "I wouldn't have thought you to be so taken with that idea. Maybe I should keep that in mind."

Looking over his shoulders with glassy eyes, Thorin couldn't find the words to explain what that image did to him. All he managed was a broken, "Please …"

Fortunately, his husband seemed to understand him without elaborate explanations. "Shhh …," Bilbo soothed, caressing his back, "everything is alright, love. Relax, I've got you." Slowly the hobbit sank into him. It was a tight fit, bordering on being painful, but Thorin wallowed in the sensation.

Neither said anything or moved for the first few heartbeats. Not the dwarf because to him this was beyond perfect. Nor the hobbit, since, as always when he took his husband barely stretched, the sensation of Thorin surrounding him took his breath away. Every single instinct demanded of him to move but Bilbo reined them all in, too cautious of hurting his lover. After what felt like an eternity, Thorin slowly started to rock back, chasing the pleasure this union would bring. Adapting to the speed, Bilbo oh so slowly mirrored these motions. Wrapping his arms around the strong body in front of him, he pulled his dwarf closer.

Rising until he sat on his spread knees, Thorin would have fallen over again, when Bilbo's cock brushed over exactly the right spot again and again. Yet having gained strength from his weapons training, his husband had no problems to hold him upright. Clutching his partner, the dwarf chasing the growing pleasure and when Bilbo closed his slick fingers around his shaft, he barely managed a few more pushes before his world exploded. Hands digging into his skin, hot breath huffing over his shoulder indicated that Bilbo was following suit, filling him with warmth. Tightly wrapped around one another, they rode out their orgasms before sinking boneless into the sheets.

Thorin pulled at his partner's arms until the hobbit covered him entirely before he decided with a quiet chuckle, "I love this tradition."

"Same here," Bilbo nuzzled into his neck. "We definitely need more of those. Like for the beginning of every season."

"The beginning of every month."

"Or every week."

"Every day!"

Laughing, the hobbit shifted, until he lay beside his husband, finally able to look into his eyes. "Love, if we start each day like this, we will never leave the bed."

Pulling Bilbo close, so that he could snuggle against his chest, Thorin grumbled good naturedly. "I don't see the problem."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was beautiful and quiet and could have been perfectly peaceful, if not …  
> "You are still angry with Nori and Eikin."  
> "Yes … No … I don't know." Bilbo admitted, eyes on the last bread crust he had torn to apart instead of on his husband.


	18. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori and Eikinskjaldi didn’t acknowledge each other, aside from a brief greeting when trailing up to the Mountaintop. Only when they stood in front of the round blue door did they share another glance, took a deep breath, and pulled the doorbell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nori and Eikin have to make up for what they did somehow, even when they did it with the best of intentions. Fortunately, Bilbo is not that hard to molify.

A late lunch or an early tea, Thorin and Bilbo had not bothered to name the meal they were about to have. Breakfast would be most likely be an apt description, since the dwarf fluffed up eggs with butter and the hobbit arranged bread, ham, cheese and pickles on a plate. The kitchen was hot from the stove so they opened the window to let in the crisp air of a late autumn day. It was beautiful and quiet and the day could have been perfectly peaceful, if not …

"You are still angry with Nori and Eikin."

"Yes … No … I don't know," Bilbo admitted, eyes on the last bread crust he had torn apart instead of on his husband.

Gently carding his fingers through his beloved's hair, caressing his face when the hobbit leaned into the touch, Thorin wanted to know, "How did you find out? Nori's profession I mean."

"Because I'm not stupid," Bilbo snapped, pushing his plate away while turning away. A moment later, he sighed and rubbed his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't take this out on you. I'm just … it's so frustrating that everybody is constantly looking down on me. As if being a small hobbit automatically means that I am stupid!"

"That's your greatest advantage, my love," Thorin reminded him, lifting his hand to reach out again to comfort Bilbo, but held back. "When fighting and otherwise."

"I know!" The hobbit groaned. "But it's annoying still. I should be happy that people stopped badmouthing me behind my back. Though I doubt that assassination attempts are any better. Most of the time I get ignored until I stand right beside someone. As if I'm not even worth being noticed until I force them to. That drives me up the wall. But on the other hand, it gives me the chance to listen to conversations that are probably not meant for me. That, and I talked to Balin."

Dumbfounded, Thorin repeated, "You talked to Balin?"

Nodding, Bilbo confirmed, "Yes. I overheard and oversaw Nori on occasion and I was concerned. So I asked Balin about it. I know that the king confides in our auburn-haired friend on occasion and I just wanted to make sure that Nori was not tied up in any kind of shady business. In his position as first councillor, Balin explained to me that a king needs to know what is going on in his kingdom. Especially in those parts where the lights don't reach every corner."

Surprised that within a year his husband had figured out something that he had only been told by his father's advisors after settling here, Thorin pondered if he should elaborate on the subject. But the hobbit was part of their family now, with all good and bad things that came with it. "Bilbo, don't take this the wrong way, but, what Nori does is very important for our family. The position of spymaster is vital for the crown. You can't resent that."

"I'm aware," Bilbo sighed, closing his eyes. "Knowing about a threat is the first step in avoiding it. But …" Looking up, he continued quietly. "Why did he have to lie to me? I thought he was my friend! Friends don't lie to each other. That's just not right."

Rising, the prince moved from his bench to sit beside his husband. He pulled him into his arms and caressed him soothingly. "I'm sure that he only meant to protect you. He most likely was convinced that he was doing the right thing, given the circumstances."

Irritated, the hobbit mumbled against his chest, "Are you defending him?"

When he tried to pull away, Thorin wouldn't let him. "Yes, I do. You are known to be slightly unreasonable when it comes to personal guards."

"I am not!"

Thorin didn't even try to contradict Bilbo. He just held on to him and rubbed his back. After a while, the hobbit grudgingly admitted. "Alright, I might be. A little. But it's possible that I could get used to Eikinskjaldi. He's a good kid."

The dwarf couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Love, he's ten years your senior."

"Well, fifty is still young for a dwarf."

"Yes, it is …" Thorin replied, starring out of the window because an unexpected realization had just hit him. Bilbo was forty. His birthday had been more than four weeks ago and they all had completely forgotten about it.

~ ♥ ~

For once a free day didn't seem to contain activities for Thorin beyond entertaining a certain hobbit prior to his next meal. The spouses enjoyed a languid afternoon, while Eikinskjaldi paced his home agitatedly, his niece in his arms. After about an hour his older sister demanded, “Alright, sit down and talk, by Mahal! You’re walking a groove into our living-room.”

“But she …” Eikin protested, only to notice that his formerly so unhappy niece was sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“She stopped crying a few moments after you picked her up. But you did listen. Instead you marched miles and miles and now you will stop.” Náli forced him onto the sofa.

When her little brother was not able to look into her eyes, she knew the situation to be serious. The siblings had experienced the attack on Erebor as harshly as most dwarves in their new home. Especially since they had lost their mother to it. Their father had survived both the dragon and the battle of Azanulbizar, though severely wounded. He had loved his children dearly, but had not been fit to care for them. Instead it had been the other way around.

Náli and Eikinskjaldi had survived the journey relying on each other and, later, Náli’s fiancé. These challenges had tied them together so the lady-dwarf knew how to read her brother. Him not being able to look at her, meant that things were bad. “Tell me what is going on, Eikin. Otherwise I can’t help you.”

“I doubt you could even if I did,” The young dwarf mumbled.

“Try me.”

“I made Bilbo hate me!” He admitted, hitting the table with his forehead, now that the baby rested peacefully in her crib.

“Our Bilbo? The royal consort? The hobbit who came all the way from the Shire to save us from starvation? Who smiles at everybody who approaches him and lends an open ear to all dwarves who make a request? That Bilbo?” When her brother only nodded but did not raise his head, she nudged him, “Explain.”

For the first time since Nori had talked to him, had asked his help and had paid good money for good information, Eikin felt ashamed for himself. Of course he had helped to keep the king, yesterday even the royal consort, safe. But the way he had gone about it … maybe he had done more harm than good. Bilbo had been armed and armoured after all. Had held his ground to the second attacker until their prince had intervened.

“I …” he began slowly, searching for words that didn’t come easy. “When I wanted to become the royal consort’s manservant, I might have had ulterior motives.” Since his sister didn’t say anything very loudly, he forced himself to continue. “I may have been approached by a third party beforehand.” He still kept to himself how long ago that had happened, unwilling to mention and thus compromise Nori. “Not everybody likes our hobbit. Some dwarves may … have ill intentions towards him.”

“Ill intentions like trying to kill him during the New Year’s Festivities?” Náli asked quietly.

When her brother nodded once again, she recalled, “You were there, to protect him.”

Another nod.

“And he’s angry about that why?”

“Because we didn't tell him.” Eikinskjaldi hissed, irritated with himself. “We made him believe that I was but a simple servant, when I’m meant to be his guard.”

There was more to this than her little brother was willing to share. Like who ‘we’ actually was. But any ‘concerned third party’ whose intention was to keep the royal consort safe couldn't be bad in Náli's mind. So she tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Did you explain yourself afterwards?” He nodded empathically. “Did that explanation contain at any point an honest, true to your heart, apology?”

Mute, Eikin shook his head. He had done everything he could think of. Had explained himself as comprehensively as possible but he had not once said that he was sorry. Not for the fact that he had taken the position of the guard -- Bilbo clearly was in need of one; but for the way he had gone about it. His Master was a really good person. There was a very real possibility for him to be forgiven, if he put all cards on the table.

~ ♥ ~

“Nori,” Dori prodded gently. “What happened yesterday?”

“Someone tried to kill our royal consort.” The auburn-haired dwarf forced his voice to remain calm, even if he was anything but.

Sadly, his brothers knew him far too well to fall for such an act. Ori looked over the table and reached out to comfort him. “We saw that. What happened afterwards when the king, our prince, Bilbo, Eikin and you talked?”

He briefly considered lying to them. To tell them that it was an internal matter, not to be discussed. He had done so before and even though his brothers, well, mostly Ori, had a way of seeing through him, they would let it go. It surprised him that he didn't want to keep this to himself, not when it came to their hobbit. That, and he needed their help to get into Bilbo’s good graces again. For a few moments, he pondered about how much to reveal. In the end it didn't matter because it all boiled down to, “Bilbo's angry with me. Angry and disappointed because I lied to him and that’s even worse, anger I know how to deal with, but disappointment …”

Abandoning the clean-up after their late lunch, Dori sat down beside Nori, obviously conflicted. “What did you do? Can you tell us?”

Sighing, Nori made a vague gesture, “I assigned him a guard without telling him beforehand.”

“The young Eikin,” Ori concluded. “He acts like Master Bilbo’s secretary, but took the hit for him yesterday. He fights like you,” The youngest brother added on an afterthought.

“Is it that obvious?” The spymaster, the one person in this kingdom who should be known for his stealth, snapped.

Raising his hand to calm him, Dori smiled, “Only to those who know you well.”

“Obviously,” Nori grumbled. He really should have known better. He was training Bilbo himself for Mahal’s sake! He should have assigned another bodyguard to him. But training a bodyguard and then letting someone else do his job, kind of defeated the purpose. So now he was back at square one, where he had done something wrong, for all the right reasons, and was worried that he had lost a precious friend because of it. “What if he hates me now? If he doesn’t talk to me ever again? How will I be able to do see to my duties and train him, so that he’s able to defend himself?”

“Is that really what you are worried about? Your duties?” The eldest brother asked quietly.

Of course he was worried about that! He … wordlessly Nori shook his head and rubbed his face tiredly. The idea of Bilbo hating him; after all he had done for Nori’s family; how they had become friends against all odds …

Ori’s hand on his shoulder came as a surprise, but quite a welcome one. After their time in Hobbiton, watching the way hobbits interacted, the dwarves had understood how very important touch was and had tried to adapt accordingly. For some of them it was harder, like Nori who was secretive and distant by nature, or Dori who, at times, was afraid of his own strength even though he was able to handle the most delicate china. To someone as young and compassionate as Ori, it came as naturally as breathing and for once it was the youngest brother who taught his siblings. “Considering what I know about you, you have already explained as much as possible, but did you tell him that you never meant to hurt him? That your only intention was to keep him safe? And that you are sorry that he had to find out like this, instead of you telling him?”

Slowly lowering his hands, Nori looked at his younger brother, who sat beside him, in stunned amazement. “No, I did not.”

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, Ori shrugged. “Might be a good start, don't you think?”

Pulling his brother close, Nori hugged him fiercely. “You, little brother, are an absolute genius. Mark my words, one day you’ll be Guild Master or even First Councillor.” That said, he turned around and left, leaving a thunderstruck Ori and a chuckling Dori behind.

“He’s right, you know,” the silver-haired dwarf added, returning to his dishes. “You’re compassionate, clever, intelligent, but most of all you have a good heart and you see what other people need. You would make a brilliant first councillor.”

“But that an apology is in order when you do something wrong is hardly a revelation,” Ori protested, not understanding where all the praise suddenly came from. “If you make a mistake, you say you’re sorry. Master Bilbo is a good person, he will forgive Nori easily, if our brother is honest with him. For someone who knows the first thing about hobbits that is quite obvious.”

“It is for you, Ori.” Dori touched his shoulders and kissed his youngest brother’s forehead. “Not all of us understand the nature of hobbits as you do, even after living with them for several weeks. Certainly not your brother, though he usually sees so much. It is good that he had you paying attention in the Shire. Otherwise we all would probably miss a lot about our royal consort.”

~ ♥ ~

Nori and Eikinskjaldi didn’t acknowledge each other, aside from a brief greeting when trailing up to the Mountaintop. Only when they stood in front of the round blue door did they share another glance, took a deep breath, and pulled the doorbell.

Though wearing only trousers, shirt and socks, Thorin made an imposing figure when opening the door and looked down at the two dwarves who had angered his husband. Even Nori, who was self-confident and composed at all times, withered under the glare. Eikin was even worse off. Oh, this was going to be good.

Folding his arms, the prince looked down at them. “What do you want?”

Looking like a sheep in a storm, Eikin flinched back. Nori however met Thorin’s glare dead on. “We want to talk to Bilbo. What we did was not alright and we have to apologize.”

Not moving an inch, Thorin deadpanned, “I doubt that he wants to talk to you. My husband is currently debating with himself if he should banish you two from the Blue Mountains!”

“Really?” Eikinskjaldi pulled back further, trembling, until Nori reached for him to keep the young dwarf from taking flight. He glared at his prince.

“No,” Thorin admitted, giving up his stern posture, inviting them into his home. “But he is very disappointed. He really expected you to know better than to lie to him. Especially you, Master Nori.”

“I did!” Nori defended himself, correcting himself almost instantly. “I do.” After taking a fortifying breath he shook his head and tried again. “I do know better, my Lord. Please give me the chance to prove it.”

“Very well, come in.” Guiding the pair into the living-room, where Bilbo currently tried to unlock the secret of how to knit socks, Thorin barely had time to announce their guests, since both dwarves started to talk on top of each other the moment they entered.

“Bilbo, …” “Master Baggins, …”

“We’re so sorry.” “We should have told you.”

“There’s danger in the shadows and we only meant to keep you safe!” “I only meant to protect you.”

Meeting Thorin’s eyes, when it became clear that he wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, Bilbo nodded with relief when his husband mouthed, “Tea?” Folding his hands in a pleading gesture, Bilbo waited until the dwarves in front of him were through their initial rush and then mollified sigh. This promised to be a long afternoon. Rising from his seat, Bilbo stepped up to his auburn-haired friend. “I know that you meant to keep me safe, Nori. I never doubted your good intentions. But … why did you have to lie to me?”

Looking at his manservant, he added, “Both of you! Why couldn't you simply tell me the truth?”

Sighing, Nori took a seat when Bilbo gestured towards the couch. “To be perfectly honest, because I couldn’t risk you saying no.”

“Pardon me?” The hobbit huffed. “Don’t you think that it ought to be my decision if I accept a guard or not?”

Looking at the prince, who was serving tea, the spymaster barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Clearly no support would come from that side. Thorin’s only intention was keeping his husband happy. Help came, unexpectedly, from Eikinskjaldi.

“Excuse me, Master Bilbo,” he piped up hesitantly. “But it really shouldn’t.” At the surprised look of their hobbit, the young dwarf continued. “You’re a member of the royal family. In marrying our heir, in coming here to save us, your life became so much more important than mine or Master Nori’s or anybody else’s, save for the Durin family.”

Turning his face away, Bilbo decided, “That is stupid and I can’t accept that.”

Three heads whipped around, when Thorin stated quietly, “But it’s true nevertheless.”

“What?”

Relaxing against the cushions, Nori watched the spouses, pacifying Eikin with a gesture because the young dwarf seemed ready to speak up again. The hobbit’s irritation shifted from them to Thorin.

Trying to calm his husband, by rubbing his wrist, the dwarf explained, “Say the attack yesterday was successful because Eikin had not been fast enough and that cursed dwarf would have gone for your neck. Next year … this year, many of our women are about to give birth. Yet nobody will be here to introduce them to a sensible day care system, keeping their skills available for our kingdom for the next few decades. Next year’s harvest will be good and the year after and the year after. But what then? What if there is a drought or new pest plants or even pests? We have few vegetable patches for now, even fewer orchards. If your grandfather hears that we were incapable of keeping you safe, do you think that he would continue trading with us? Or worse, that he would ask for our help if there is another hard winter?

“So many depend on you, Bilbo, least of all me and my family. Are you still convinced that you are not more important than most others?”

“But … I am just a simple hobbit!” Bilbo protested, trying to dispel the horrors Thorin had just conjured.

Softly Nori injected, “There is nothing simple about you, Bilbo. It is time that you accept that.”

 “How can I take myself more important than our people?” He shook his head as if that was a foreign concept.

“You don’t, Master Bilbo.” Eikinskjaldi declared. “That’s our job! You just have to let us do it.”

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The halfling as interrogator," the captured dwarf spat out. "You can't be serious."


	19. Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of the new year was traditionally free, so Bilbo had learned. Nobody but the healers took care of their duties. Even the kitchen was closed since everybody was provided for with leftovers from the feast. The next day, however, everybody was back in business.  
> “It’s kind of dark down here,” The royal consort mentioned, walking down a shady corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my cherished beta Redone, I have yet another chapter ready for you. Sneak-peak: I'm currently several chapters ahead of posting and I'm working on a wedding. Can you imagine whose?

After supper Thorin looked for Bilbo but couldn't find his husband anywhere. Wondering if he should go down to the royal wing and ask one of the guards if they had seen him, Thorin hesitated at the door to the garden. Bilbo wouldn't go outside, it was freezing and his coat was here. When he saw smoke through the window, though, he took the coat with a sigh. Of course his beloved needed some time alone after what had happened. He should have known. But why did it have to be the garden instead of their nice, cosy study?

Nori and Eikin had left after a late tea. There had been tea but also sandwiches and pickles and cheese and nuts, soothing the frazzled dwarves' nerves because, no matter what they tried to pretend, their hobbit being angry at them wasn't something anybody enjoyed. They had been settled after filling their belly with Bilbo's delicious treats. Great, now he was thinking like a hobbit, concerning himself with food when he was worried.

Thorin left the smial and wrapped up his hobbit in his coat before sliding to the floor in front of him. Though the ground was cold, having Bilbo at his back, his legs at his sides surrounding him with warmth and the scent of earth and sunlight was worth a little cold. When his husband offered his pipe, the dwarf enjoyed the familiar taste. He didn’t have to wait long for his hobbit to break the silence. Bilbo’s words were barely audible when he whispered, “I don’t think I can do this, Thorin, consider myself more important than anybody else.”

“Then don’t,” the prince advised. “Eikin might be young, but his advice was sound. Do whatever you have to do, hold on to your convictions, but allow others to act on theirs.”

“Dying for me?” Bilbo challenged indignantly.

“Protecting you! Do you really think I want Dwalin to die for me? Or that Dís wants little Gimli to lose his father just because someone doesn’t agree with her?” Only when Thorin looked up, seeing his husband shaking his head empathically, did he continue. “Of course not. The safety of our people has always been, and will always be our first concern! But in case of an attack, or even something as simple as a public appearance, we choose to follow our guards’ advice. Dwalin is tasked with keeping me safe. I would be a poor prince if I didn't let him do his job.”

Gazing down, obviously lost, the royal consort wanted to know, “So what should I do?”

With a smile, Thorin reached for his husband’s hand and kissed the tattooed wrist lovingly. “Trust them.” With a little grin he leaned back further and gazed at his upside down hobbit. “And maybe don’t shout afterwards, when they have tried to protect you.”

Caressing his beloved’s nose and forehead since they were presented so enticingly, the hobbit nodded. “I think I might be able to do that. But if there is another attack, I reserve the right to be grumpy and irritable with you afterwards.”

“Agreed,” the dwarf smiled, relieved that his husband had given in so easily.

~ ♥ ~

The first day of the new year was traditionally free, so Bilbo had learned. Nobody but the healers took care of their duties. Even the kitchen was closed since everybody was provided for with leftovers from the feast. The next day, however, everybody was back in business.

“It’s kind of dark down here,” The royal consort mentioned, walking down a shady corridor.

“The scum down here doesn’t deserve more than one candle a day!” The dwarf beside him spat out. “This is a prison after all.”

Noticing the sure footing of his guide, the hobbit reminded himself, “And dwarves can see in the dark. I always forget that.”

“Of course we can, we come from the stone after all.” The prison master grumbled, before hesitating. “I’m sorry, I forgot, your royal highness. Do you want me to fetch another lantern for you?”

Bilbo raised his hands, “Please, don’t bother, Master Blain. That I don’t feel comfortable, is because of the person I am about to visit, not because of the lack of light.” Forcing a smile, he added, “Also I trust you not to abandon me and leave me in the dark.”

“Never, my Lord!” The dwarf promised. “Though I still think you should wait for the Masters Dwalin and Nori. It is not a good idea to be alone with either of your attackers. Even when the first gave in to interrogation quite easily. He didn’t know anything after all. An honourless scum, willing to attack the royal consort for but a few coins!”

Shrugging off something he had learned only a few minutes prior – money was a motive he could understand after all – Bilbo assured the dwarf, “I won’t be alone.”

 

Eikinskjaldi’s eyes stayed glued to the floor when Bilbo raised his eyebrows the moment he reached the cell. His voice was quiet but no less determined when he answered the hobbit’s unspoken question. “I thought you might come here, Master Baggins. The prisoner is not secured beyond a chain that spans nearly the entire cell. This is not safe!”

“So as my guard, would you forbid me to enter?”

Looking up, surprised that his master was unexpectedly willing to entertain such an idea, the young dwarf pondered for a moment before shaking his head. “Yes, I mean no, I mean, …” sighing frustrated he straightened. “As your guard I would definitely advise you not to go in there. But as manservant to the royal consort I am aware that you have to. Just … let me come with you, please.”

Reaching for the cell door, the young dwarf turned when Bilbo covered his hand and kept him from opening it. “Eikin, wait.”

Taking a deep breath, because he didn’t like this one bit, the royal consort decided, “You are my manservant who wants to be my guard. Thorin made me understand how very important members of the royal family are. However, I have difficulties thinking of myself as more but a simple hobbit. Still, I can learn to allow you to do so. I don’t get in your way when you do my laundry and I don’t want to do so either, when it comes to you protecting me. So, Eikinskjaldi, as my guard, responsible for my safety, tell me not to go in there. Tell me that you can’t guarantee my safety and we will wait for the others.”

A slow smile had crept over the corners of the young dwarf’s mouth during Bilbo’s speech. Bowing deep, Eikin reached for the cell door again. “I would be a pretty poor guard, could I not defend you against a single, shackled prisoner. But please, stay close to the door, Master Bilbo.”

The hobbit promised, “That I can do.”

Before he closed the door after himself, Bilbo chuckled quietly. “It’s alright, Master Nori, you can stop hiding and join us as well. You need a lot more practice before you can sneak up on someone who is attuned to the soft soles of fauntlings tiptoeing through a smial in search of a treat.”

~ ♥ ~

"The halfling as interrogator," the captured dwarf spat out. "You can't be serious."

Bilbo took in the shackled, toughed up dwarf who seemed determined to ignore him and address Eikinskjaldi instead. Not allowing himself be bothered by that insult, he asked the prisoner, "What makes you think that I came here to interrogate you?" The contempt in his opponent's eyes made him want to retreat, but he held his ground. He wouldn't be intimidated by someone who stooped so low as to attack him with a knife.

"Any sane dwarf would enquire about an attacker who is willing to risk his life just to get rid of an abomination like you!" The captive sneered. "Or are you so sure of your hold over the royal family that you don't think you have anything to fear? Let me tell you something: not even the royal family can oppose their own people in the long run. Sooner or later we **will** get rid of you and the House of Durin will return to its former glory. Or they will vanish into oblivion. Either way we will not have to see you again!"

Backing the prisoner against the wall, since he had come too close to his master for Eikinskjaldi's liking, the young dwarf hissed, "Without Master Bilbo there would be no House of Durin! And in a decade or two we all would be gone, starved to death because we can't grow healthy food."

"Lies!" The other dwarf roared, trying to break Eikin's hold. Though smaller and lighter, Bilbo's guard held him fast. "We would have prevailed. We always prevail, no matter what fate throws at us. We don't need a member from another race to taint our traditions! He made the miners abandon productive shafts in favour of digging deeper into unstable territory! He made the librarians buy books that brought the cursed elves into our home! He enchanted our women to give up the safety of our mountain! Many of them are with child now. Who knows what they will bear!"

The servant could only gape at these accusations and Bilbo realized that no sensible discussion would be possible with someone so far in the realm of madness. Therefore he changed tactics. Drawing his blade, Bilbo nudged Eikinskjaldi aside and swept the feet out from under the dwarf. When his former attacker hit the floor hard, the hobbit brought his weapon to his throat. With a voice cold as steel, he informed the captive, "Since you choose to attack me instead of my family, I could not care less about what happens to you. You might even walk out of here on your own two feet if it were up to me."

Ignoring grumbled protests at his back, Bilbo continued. "But you will get my message to your people one way or the other: If you, any of you, ever think about laying hands on a member of the royal family, make them 'vanish into oblivion', I will find you and I will eradicate you. Have I made myself clear?"

Despite his inferior position, the dwarf sputtered, "We would never …! You can't …!" The dagger cut though beard, dug into soft skin and drew blood.

"I can, and I will," Bilbo told him determined. "I have friends, within this kingdom and outside of it. I am willing to call upon each and every one of them to wipe you and your co-conspirators off the face of Middle Earth, should you ever lift a finger against the people I love."

For the first time since he and his guard had entered the cell, Bilbo could see real fear breaking through the cloud of insanity that had held their prisoner in a tight grip until now. Pulling away gingerly, touching his injured neck and mutilated beard, the dwarf asked hesitantly, "So this is it? I am free to go?"

Snorting, Bilbo cleaned his blade and put it away. "I couldn't care less about anyone attacking me."  
He looked over his shoulder where Nori had been joined by Dwalin and Balin by now. "My friends, however, don't share that opinion. I think they still have a question or two for you." Turning towards them, the royal consort straightened his clothes. "Just keep in mind what I have just said. He walks out of here on his own feet to spread the word. After all, his assault was half-assed. I could even hold my ground against him with my dagger and Thorin was upon him before he could do any damage."

Dwalin bristled at that, "You can't expect us to leave him unharmed after attacking you!"

Smiling sharply, looking at the prisoner, who had retreated into a corner, one last time, Bilbo replied pleasantly, "I never said unharmed."

~ ♥ ~

Thorin stood at attention, facing the prison cell that held his husband's attacker. Every inch of him demanded to go in there and tear the insolent dwarf to pieces, information about his fellow conspirators be damned! Maybe that was the reason Balin and Dwalin had advised him emphatically to wait out here.

He was grateful to have heeded his friends' advice, when Bilbo stepped out of the cell and burrowed into his arms, fingers clawing at Thorin's clothes in an attempt to get closer.

The prince didn't say anything. He just wrapped himself tighter around his husband, when the hobbit started to tremble and hot tears seeped through his clothes. He had faith in their friends, or so Thorin told himself. They would find the culprits of this attack so he could make them pay!

Ori had passed them the moment Bilbo had started to tremble, looking even grimmer than Dwalin when noticing this. The prince was not sure he liked that particular look on their young friend's face, but since everybody in the cell but the prisoner had his hobbit's best interest at heart, he wouldn't say anything. Instead he comforted his husband who sobbed quietly in his arms.

"I don't understand. Everything is twisted," Bilbo choked out between sobs. "As if all the good I have done for your people isn't worth anything. Everything I have tried to help with, every decision I have made on the guilds' behalf is somehow turned against me. I can't do anything right!"

Kissing his husband's forehead, forcing down the concern of hearing the royal consort calling the dwarves of Ered Luin 'they' while he had formerly claimed them as 'his' people, Thorin whispered, "That's not true, Bilbo. This is but a small fraction of dwarves who are too fatuous to see that you are our saviour. You remember the state of our fields, the sick soil, the sick corn. We wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for you. By Mahal, our women are blessed with fertility once again. This is the happiest we have been since we came to Ered Luin and all thanks to you!"

When Bilbo shook his head and hid his face once again, Thorin realized that he wouldn't escape this situation without explaining the believes of the group of radical traditionalists that was obviously responsible for this attack. "Come on, let's return to the Mountaintop. I think it is time to share with you a part of our history most modern dwarves try to forget."

Dwarven kingdoms of old had flourished while their people had kept to themselves. But the passing ages had taught them that they needed to accept the other races. Together with the humans of Dale, Erebor had flourished. But now people were forgetting. After the lack of help they had received after Smaug, many thought that shutting themselves off again would help. Thorin himself had thought so while being looked down at, during their wandering years. But getting to know the hobbits, he had understood once again why his ancestors had opened Erebor. They were better off if they stood united with the other races - or at least one other race, alright, maybe two - against what life threw at them.

~ ♥ ~

Ori was beyond furious when he slipped into the prison cell. He had seen their hobbit beside himself before, but never like this. When their prince had been abducted, his husband had been desperate but determined, holding himself together for the sake of his beloved. But now Bilbo seemed broken. He was falling apart because some members of their community could not see how much good he had done for their people. The young scribe clutched his writing utensils tighter when Nori stepped in his way even before he could close the door behind himself.

"You can't be here, Ori," his brother tried to decide for him, and before he even got the chance to protest, Balin backed Nori up. "He is right, this is not a situation you want to find yourself in, young scribe."

Seeing the resolve on Nori's face and Dwalin's nearly murderous intent, Ori shook his head. "With all due respect, First Councillor, don't our laws state that a scribe has to be present to keep the minutes when a prisoner of public interest is questioned? In my opinion, someone who attacks our royal consort qualifies as such."

Surprisingly it was Dwalin who held Nori back when the dwarf seemed prepared to shove Ori out. "You are right, of course, but this is going to be messy. You should not have to face that."

"My brother is right, please, go." Balin agreed, gesturing towards the door.

"No!" Ori hissed, ripping his arm out of Nori's grip. "I came to Hobbiton last summer. I lived with Bilbo for just as long as my brothers did. That made this my business! Or do you really want a scribe in here, whose loyalty to our hobbit is not as unconditional as mine?"

The three dwarves shared an uncertain look, glaring at the prisoner who slowly started to realize what his companions had gotten him into. Still, Nori tried one last time, desperate to protect his baby brother from the ugliness that sometimes came with watching over the royal family. "Ori, please, you are not ready for this."

But the young scribe shook his head, meeting his brother’s gaze. "I trusted you when you demanded sketches of Bag End. I trusted you when you pushed me into the position of contractor for Bilbo's smial. Now it's your turn. You will trust me in this! I am Bilbo's friend and I deserve to protect him just as much as you. Maybe I wield a pen rather than a sword, but that makes me neither weak nor undeserving."

Slowly nodding, Balin turned around and gestured for Nori and Dwalin to approach the prisoner. He heard the young scribe preparing the tools of his trade in the corner closest to the door. He was cautious, that was good. Now the First Councillor could direct his undivided attention at the one dwarf who had dared to attack their hobbit and find out who was behind all this. "Let us begin. I want a list of names. I want to know each and every person responsible for this vile act. And don't worry if you can't remember them at first. We have nothing but time."

They would get to the bottom of this. Balin would not disappoint his king a second time, by letting the attacker of his son-in-law escape unpunished.

~ ♥ ~

When Nori and Ori returned home that evening, the youngest brother was pale and self-contained. Dori served dinner without asking questions, though he couldn't keep his worried glances to himself. The next morning, Ori rose at the usual time, did his braids and prepared his utensils before returning to the prison. His brothers could not have been prouder. From all of them, Ori was the one who would get the furthest in life, simply by doing what was right.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We should return to the Shire. You would be safer there. I should not have brought you here." The dwarf whispered into the darkness.  
> "That was not your decision to make," Bilbo replied dispassionately. "Nor is it now."  
> "Bilbo, …"  
> "No, Thorin," his husband interrupted him. "This is my life now. I chose this and won't run away, tail between my legs, just because things are difficult at the moment."


	20. A Trail of Breadcrumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damn it, Bilbo!" The dwarven prince shouted. "Leaving when someone makes an attempt on your life is not weakness! It is the smart thing to do, to avoid dangerous situations!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody in Bilbo's family is trying to keep their hobbit safe.

Bilbo was withdrawn when they returned to the Mountaintop. Thorin kept a close eye on him, since such behaviour was uncommon for the usually so cheerful hobbit. Bilbo's breakdown after leaving the cell was still vivid in the dwarf's mind. His hobbit had not talked at all since leaving the prison. He didn't eat lunch, barely touched his tea and ate no more than a few bites for dinner before excusing himself to go to bed. Thorin did not join him. Eikin, his concern for his master written all over his face, was sent to fetch Fíli and Kíli. He wanted them to keep an ear out for their new uncle. Right now Thorin trusted nobody but family with Bilbo's safety.

Once his nephews were sitting in the living-room, visibly concerned, the prince took the chance to meet with Balin and his father. Thrain had insisted on learning everything he could about his son-in-law's attacker. He had been furious this morning. The same cold determination in his eyes that had frightened Thorin two years ago when it had been directed at him, since he had contradicted his father's plan to send him to the Shire, was now comforting. He even revelled in his father's anger, knowing that the king would do everything in his power to bring the traitors who had dared to lift their hands against the royal consort to justice.

"We have a few names already," Balin was just explaining as Thorin entered. "Yet I doubt that any of these were the ones who hatched this abhorrent plan. From what Nori told me, all of them are low-level thugs or petty thieves. They would gain very little from Bilbo's death. Certainly not enough to risk their lives."

"Do you think he is lying?" Thorin wanted to know.

Sharing a look with the king, the First Councillor shook his head. "No, he is too scared for that."

Rumbling contently, Thrain asked, "Scared of whom, Dwalin or Nori?"

Balin raised his chin proudly. "Both to be honest. Though my brother usually prefers the 'hands-on' approach, following Nori's directions, he became positively vicious this afternoon. We did not break more than his wrist today, yet our prisoner was already so afraid from the build-up that he lost control over his bodily functions."

Thorin raised his eyebrows at that. "He pissed himself?"

The white-haired dwarf nodded vindictively, "You could say he was most forthcoming with … everything he had to offer. My brother has a very high opinion of our royal consort and takes the attack on him quite personally. As does any dwarf who had the privilege of living with Bilbo the summer before last."

Thrain rose and started to pace the extent of the room. Knowing better than to disturb his father when he was thinking, Thorin watched Balin, who sorting through the papers Ori had composed. He extended his hand, Balin wordlessly handed them over. Though the prince had to admire Ori's creative transcription of the torture they had subjected their prisoner to, the actual information was quite sparse. "So although we have countless arms to chop off, we are still missing the head."

His white-haired friend nodded, his expression apologetic. Yet before he could share his opinion on that matter, Thrain interrupted them. "Do you consider all of 'Baggins’s dwarrows' as the Shirefolk so lovingly named them, absolute in their loyalty towards our hobbit?"

Without hesitation, both answered in one voice, "Yes."

Thorin asked after a moment, slightly hesitant, "Does that bother you? Our people, Bilbo included, would follow you anywhere."

"I certainly hope so." Thrain injected. "I am their king after all. But back to the problem at hand. It seems that questioning Bilbo's attacker will only get us so far. We need more people. If the two of you have no concerns regarding their trustworthiness, the Shire company will do."

"What are you planning, father?"

"A proclamation." Gesturing towards the desk, the king waited until Balin had quill and parchment ready. "Let it be known that anybody involved in the attack against the royal consort will be tried according to our laws. We will execute his attackers and imprison their co-conspirators. Once that is done, we will put this unpleasant matter behind us."

Enraged that his father was taking his husband's safety so lightly, Thorin shot up from his seat. "But that won't help," He accused. "Charging the few dwarves we have found already won't eliminate the threat, Bilbo won't …"

Having learned to read his king over the last centuries, Balin smiled and interrupted the prince. "No, but it will lull the culprits, who have not yet been found, into a false sense of security. Sooner or later they will make a mistake."

Nodding, Thrain gestured towards the transcript. "We have to approach this problem from all sides and we will need help for that. Help from dwarves who are on Bilbo's side, no matter what. Call them together, Thorin. Make Bilbo invite them to the Mountaintop over the next couple of days. Having his friends visit won't raise any suspicion, and we get the chance to share what we know and what has to be done. We need eyes and ears in all of Ered Luin to make our hobbit safe again."

Stepping up to his father, touching their foreheads, Thorin breathed out, "Thank you."

Hugging his son, the king promised, "We will make sure that Bilbo will be safe in his new home. I will not rest until the instigators of this attack are found!"

~ ♥ ~

When Thorin shared the king's plan with his nephews, Fíli and Kíli promised to take care of breakfast the next day. They had some planning to do, so Dwalin, Balin, Nori and Thrain would come up and join them for the meal.

Bilbo didn't move a muscle when Thorin entered their bedroom. Though he tried to be quiet, the dwarf was well aware that his husband had barely dozed. Bilbo's breathing was too short for him to be asleep. What could he do to ease his beloved's burden?

Tea was out of the question and for once, Thorin was sure that food was not desired. That left him with the one choice that almost always worked when soothing his hobbit's agitation. Slipping between the covers, the dwarf placed a warm hand on Bilbo's shoulder and nudged him so he would turn around. "Come here, love." He whispered and reluctantly, the hobbit complied. Wrapped around each other, they watched the moonbeams paint patterns across the picture of the Shire and reflect from Mahal's name before the night reached its darkest hour.

Yesterday, his hobbit had apparently banned the events of the banquet from his mind. He had pushed away the attack and what it entailed, so they could have a happy first day of the New Year. But from everything Thorin had heard inside of the cell, the attacker's mania had shaken his husband to the core. It had forced him to face the fact that some, probably several dwarves, wanted him dead. How was a hobbit, born into an environment as peaceful as the Shire, to deal with such a fact?

Thorin was well aware that Bilbo had not been accustomed to violence, beyond feral wolves. Alright, he had broken this vile little hobbit's nose who had dared to touch him, but in the prince's mind that hardly counted as violence. He and Dwalin had done far worse to each other during brawls in their youth and they were best friends.

But in coming to the Shire, to Hobbiton, to Bag End, Thorin had forced Bilbo into a life where assassination attempts were to be expected. Living in a guarded, royal wing spoke not only of his family’s high standing, but of the security they needed to be safe. Thorin had counted his blessings that the perfect home for his husband had been an extension of the said wing and had not needed a new roster of guards. He didn't particularly enjoy the fact that their home could be reached from the mountainside as well. But apart from Bilbo, him and that short-bearded elf from the Grey Havens, nobody knew that. So the prince was not overly worried. Still, he insisted for the backdoor to be locked at all times, with key and latch.

"We should return to the Shire. You would be safer there. I should not have brought you here," He whispered into the darkness in the wee hours of the morning.

"That was not your decision to make," Bilbo replied dispassionately. "Nor is it now. You saw to that."

"Bilbo, …"

"No, Thorin," his husband interrupted him. "This is my life now. I chose this and won't run with my tail between my legs, just because things are difficult at the moment."

Softly, Thorin pointed out, "You could change your mind. You are allowed to change your mind about where you want to spend your life. You are a hobbit in a mountain of dwarves. Nobody expects you to be happy with all this."

Rising from his husband's chest, Bilbo sat up, Thorin following suit. They leaned against opposite ends of the bed, looking at each other in the darkness, willing the other to understand.

When neither said anything for quite a while, Bilbo forced out from between clenched teeth, "All that would accomplish is proving them right! Running away now would only indicate weakness and I am not weak!"

"Damn it, Bilbo!" The dwarven prince shouted. "Leaving when someone makes an attempt on your life is not weakness! It is the smart thing to do, to avoid dangerous situations!"

"No," the hobbit shook his head stubbornly. "Nori, you, Dís, even the boys made it clear that violence is a normal part of a royal's life. You all prepared me for it, trained me, so I would be strong enough to stand my ground when it happened."

"By Mahal," Thorin sighed, burying his hands in his hair, pulling distraught. "Taking a stand in the face of such dangers does not make us strong, we are just determined because we have nowhere else to go. We are Durins, descendants of the line that wears the crown. Don't you think we don't want to leave when someone tries to kill us? Don't you think Dís would not do everything in her power to spare her children the burdens of their birth right? But we can't. There is no other place for us in Middle Earth but here. Believe me, I've looked."

When gentle hands detangled his tresses from his finger, Thorin reached for them and kissed them reverently. Urgently he whispered, "But you have a home in the Shire. A place where you are wanted, even loved."

"I know, Thorin," Bilbo replied, much calmer now. "But the home I chose, where I am wanted and loved is right here. And I won't give it up because a group of mad dwarves want me gone. I am afraid of what will happen today or tomorrow or the day after. But they can't scare me away from you and you can't abandon our family. So let's make the best of this and see what the sons of Fundin and Nori can come up with, to get to the bottom of this."

Decision made, Thorin asked quietly, "Do you want me to make us some tea?"

Pondering for a moment, Bilbo shook his head and crawled back under the covers, opening his arms. "No, I think I want to sleep a little. Today will be taxing, I imagine."

After claiming his accustomed place, Thorin mumbled, "This was not a one-time offer, you know. The moment you want to return to the Shire, we are gone."

"I know," Bilbo breathed while caressing his husband's hair. "I read the contract."

~ ♥ ~

As promised, Fíli and Kíli climbed the steps to the Mountaintop an hour before second breakfast. Walking through the first room, which Bilbo had come to use as an antechamber, the dark-haired dwarf asked, "Do you think they are awake already?"

Hesitating, Fíli dragged out, "Probably …?"

Sharing a glance, both unlaced their boots. Tiptoeing into the living-room, they found the smial cold and empty. Reaching for his brother's shoes, Kíli suggested, "You start the fire in the kitchen, while I do the living-room?"

"Agreed," Fíli vanished, leaving his younger sibling to ignite the big fireplace at the heart of the smial. Having the fire burning merrily in no time gave Kíli the chance to sneak into his uncles' bedroom. When he opened the door, Thorin was already looking up alert. Obviously the attack had unsettled all of them, leaving them vigilant and on edge. Crouching down beside the bed, pretending ignorance of the dagger his uncle shoved back under the mattress, Kíli whispered, "Breakfast will be ready in an hour. The others will arrive then?"

When Thorin nodded, the young dwarf continued, "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Brushing his tangled locks out of his face, Thorin shook his head. "Barely, I would like to give him a little longer."

Confirming that, Kíli sneaked out again, giving Thorin the chance to claim his sleeping place once again.

"Is that what you want to do at this time of the day, sleep?" his husband asked quietly, but instead of reacting to the innuendo, Thorin kissed Bilbo's hand, which had started to untangle his hair. "Rest at least. If only for a few more minutes. We will need it."

"I know," the hobbit confirmed, turning his head to look out of the window. Everything was grey in grey, steel-blue clouds travelled over a dark-grey sky, promising thunderstorms and rain. He was not afraid of the weather any longer. The true dangers of this kingdom lay in the mountain beneath him, not up in the air.

~ ♥ ~

A mere hour later, Bilbo and Thorin stumbled into the kitchen, reaching for the cups of tea the boys offered like they were their lifelines. The hobbit seemed calm and collected, listening to the strategy his friend and Thrain planned to implement to get to the heart of this conspiracy. Nobody bothered to ask his opinion so he didn't offer it, he knew very little about such schemes anyway. His dwarves were more experienced in all this than he. Once the dishes were cleaned and put away again, Bilbo left for his dressing room. After putting on a padded shirt and his armour, he rifled through his clothes to find something appropriate for the council meeting. Bilbo had just shrugged on his golden vest over a creamy shirt and debated if the embroidered blue waistcoat was too loose to wear, when he heard a knock on the door before Dwalin entered.

"At least you are knocking now," Bilbo tried to lighten the mood when he noticed his bald friend's frown. "Still, it would be polite to wait for an actual invitation before barging into someone's dressing room."

Yet all Dwalin did was look at him, eyes traveling up from the light trousers to the cream-coloured shirt, the golden vest and the rich royal-blue coat that Bilbo had pulled out of his wardrobe. "I will accompany you to the council meeting today. Eikin can protect Thorin … or Nori will. But I will have your back today. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Bilbo, I promise."

Confused, Bilbo looked down at himself, to the coat before shaking his head, gazing at his friend, "Why do you want to be my guard today? I don't understand."

Calmly, Dwalin picked up the coat to help him into it. Looking over Bilbo's shoulder into the mirror. "Because this is not our royal consort dressing for a council meeting. This is you putting on armour. I remember the last two times you wore this particular outfit. I had your back during Longleaf's trial and when you met our king. I will have your back today as well. Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you."

Looking into the mirror, noticing what attire he had chosen, the hobbit realized that yes, he liked this particular outfit because it screamed 'respectable Baggins of Bag End'. Well, he did not have Bag End any longer, but he would be damned if he let these dwarves walk all over him. He would not give them the satisfaction of scaring him into hiding. Still … "Thank you, Dwalin. I really appreciate it." It was good to know that he was not alone.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and his friend replied softly, "Forever at your service, Bilbo. Just like I promised."

~ ♥ ~

Judging by his puzzled expression, Thorin did not understand why they had to switch guards today but he complied with Dwalin's wishes when the warrior announced it. Eikinskjaldi got pale and jittery when he heard that the prince would be his charge for the day.

Concerned for the young dwarf, Bilbo asked, "Don't you feel up to the task of keeping Thorin safe, Eikin? I know that he is the likelier target between the two of us, but he is the better fighter as well. He will mostly need you to watch his back. Will that be a problem?"

Pressing his lips together, Eikinskjaldi shook his head. "No problem, Master Bilbo. I promise to guard your husband with my life!"

 

On their way down to the council chamber, his friends were full of good advices.

"You can allow yourself to be a little jittery, someone tried to kill you."

"But show faith in your guard. Dwalin is one of our best after all."

"It's alright to be nervous."

"But you have to appear confident when standing by our king."

"You are a hobbit, so it is expected of you to be a little shaken because of an assassination attempt."

"But as royal consort, you should stand tall beside your husband. You want Thorin to be proud of you, don't you?"

Bilbo's mind was reeling the further they descended. At least until he felt Dwalin's strong hand at the small of his back. The dwarf had been silent until now and his voice didn't carry beyond Bilbo's pointy ears when he whispered, "You are Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. Remember all you have achieved these last two years and then give them hell!"

Hosting princes, proposing to one of them, gathering food, gathering seed, selling his home, making a new home and a new life … and now faced with an attempt to have all that taken away from him. The perpetrator was most likely sitting in this very room and waiting for Bilbo to fail. But he had not come this far to give up at the first sign of trouble. Hobbits were made of stronger stuff than any of these dwarves believed.

A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at the edges of his lips and the moment he straightened, Dwalin's hand fell away from his body. His friend, all of his friends and family had faith in him. The other dwarves of this mountain would learn not to underestimate him. He would show them all.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of two mysterious, cloaked figures had travelled the defence wall swiftly, alerting Dwalin. Picking up his hammer, one could never be too careful, he tried to remember why the idea of tall figures in teal and burgundy robes sounded so very familiar. Still, Thrain would want to hear about this, so Dwalin send a note to the king. Only when he actually saw the tall guests did memory return to him.


	21. Unexpected Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change of clothes forgotten, Bilbo dashed down the staircase. He could think of numerous reasons for his friends to visit, but very few of them were good – not so soon after them visiting the Shire. His attire was already soaked through and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Well, nothing could be done about that now, so Bilbo shook out his curls and entered. Seeing his friends standing on one side of the room, the king glaring at them from the other, with Dwalin in-between made his blood run cold. How dare Thrain keep his guests from him? "What is going on here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that Bilbo is not at all pleased with his king in this chapter. But they are amongst themselves, so he can let go a little and broadcast his opinion by being rude.  
> Also, this is one of the chapters where I found fanart online that I am actually allowed to use. Please check out http://cos-tam.deviantart.com/art/ayy-Celebrian-524756911 the drawings are really beautiful.

The year was coming to an end, at least if you considered the calendar of the Shire, and slowly Bilbo started to feel safe in his own home again. Thrain had assured him that both he and 'his dwarrows' would continue to work tirelessly until even the last culprit of this attack was found and neutralized. On New Year's Eve (Shire Reckoning) Bilbo would host a small feast for his family and friends. Currently he was shoving snow from his doorstep so that Thorin and he could keep up their habit of having a smoke after dinner. He had even been gifted a new cape for that very purpose.

Kíli had been incredibly proud when presenting it, since it was lined with dark-brown fur from a wolf the young dwarf had killed himself during one of his hunts. How much pride Bilbo took in this present was obvious, because he wore it every time he left the mountain. Well, except now, since shovelling was a taxing task, keeping him warm easily.

Therefore, he had no chance to see the two tall figures who, clad in rich burgundy and teal overcoats, entered Ered Luin numerous meters beneath him.

~ ♥ ~

"We would like to talk to Bilbo Baggins. No more but certainly no less!"

"It would be appreciated if you would just fetch him, so we can discover for ourselves if he is receiving or not."

The guests had not lowered their hoods, nor raised their voices until now. Still, the tension in both figures was palpable. That was the sole reason the guard had not allowed them to proceed beyond the inner gate. Nobody knew what the big folk would do to their hobbit.

However, word of two mysterious figures had travelled among the guards, alerting Dwalin. Picking up his hammer – one could never be too careful – he tried to remember why the notion of tall figures in teal and burgundy robes felt so very familiar. Still, Thrain would want to hear about this, so Dwalin send word to the king. Only when he actually saw the tall guests did memory return to him.

"Are you checking in to see if we followed your advice on the winter rye?" He grumbled, but could not stop the smile at the edge of his lips when the elves turned as one, bowing in unison.

"Master Dwalin."

"We're … delighted to see you again."

After this statement the visitors finally lowered their hoods, revealing worn features that for once made Dwalin believe their true age of several thousand years. There was an inexplicable sadness to their eyes, one that had not been there in the Shire. Dwalin wondered, but did not question them; instead he gestured them to follow him. Remembering manners both Balin and Bilbo had tried to drill into him, he looked over his shoulder. "Welcome to the Blue Mountains. After you introduce yourselves and your intentions to King Thrain, I am sure nothing will stand in your way of seeing Bilbo."

The warrior noticed the wary look the brothers shared, but did not inquire about it. If this was something that concerned him, he would find out soon enough. He had hoped to avoid dealing with members of their race after Thranduil's betrayal; Lord Elrond's children, however, had changed his opinion on elves in general. All four of them, even the young human, had been friendly and supportive of their cause. So there was no reason for him to continue hating them in general. He could only hope the king would share his believes.

~ ♥ ~

"And why would I allow elves," the disdain was audible, "to visit our royal consort?"

Obviously the king did not share his opinion. Dwalin sighed and motioned one of the servants and commanded under his breath, "Tell a guard to fetch Master Baggins. The royal consort should know that he has guests." He ended the obvious indecisiveness of the servant, who glanced anxiously at their displeased king, by shoving him towards the door. Then he stepped up to Thrain.

He waited until the elves had repeated their initial explanation for the third time, that all they wanted was to speak to Bilbo and that, no, there was no hidden agenda, before he spoke up. "Your Majesty, these elves are friends of our hobbit. They advised him last summer. I am sure they mean no harm."

Glaring at Dwalin, the king growled, "You were there when the elves of Mirkwood betrayed us. How come you side with these people, all of a sudden?" No, Thrain would never make a good diplomat. Not when it came to the firstborn race.

"With all due respect, Your Highness." Dwalin replied with unusual calmness, "first of all, Lord Elrond and the Woodland king are very different people. And second, I am not on their side, I am on Bilbo's. Can you imagine, my King, what our hobbit would do if he finds out that we turned his guests away?"

"You are afraid of a hobbit all of the sudden? Is that it?" Thrain now met Dwalin's eyes with the same condescending glare he had bestowed on the elves before.

"Yes, my Lord." The bald warrior acknowledged. He had been on the receiving end of Bilbo's scolding more than once and willingly admitted that, given the chance, he would like to avoid that. It was his turn to glare at the elvish brothers, when he noticed a faint but honest smile tugging at their lips.

"Unbelievable!" The king grumbled, turning away. Obviously he still hadn't made a decision if he should allow the elves to proceed. Yet their hobbit's wishes should be taken under consideration. He was aware that Dwalin was right about that at least.

The brothers raised their hands in an obvious attempt to placate the dwarven warrior who now glowered at them. "Don't look like that, Master Dwalin."

"We have known Bilbo his entire life. We can assure you that we have been told off by him far more often than you."

"So rest assured, we share your sentiment."

Though neither of the four would admit it, they tensed, when unexpectedly the icy voice of a certain hobbit drew their attention. "What is going on here?"

~ ♥ ~

Slipping over a frozen stone on his pathway Bilbo had tumbled backwards into the heap of snow that he had wanted to turn into a snowman previously. Immediately the young guard, who had burst out of his smial and startled him, scrambled to lend him a helping hand. "My apologies, Your Royal Highness, Master Baggins, but there are elves talking to our king. Master Dwalin has sent for you. You have to come immediately!"

"I have to … what?" Not following one bit, the hobbit busied himself with shaking the snow out of his clothes. He should change. That was the sensible thing to do before all this melted and soaked him to the bones. Then he could take his time to decipher this overly excited dwarf's message.

"There are two of them. With long teal robes and they asked for you, repeatedly!"

That stopped Bilbo mid-motion. "Teal robes?"

"At least one of them." The dwarf shared, slightly uncomfortable, now that he had the hobbit's undivided attention.

"Could the other one have worn something burgundy?"

"Maybe …"

"Let's go."

Change of clothes forgotten, Bilbo dashed down the staircase. He could think of numerous reasons for his friends to visit, but very few of them were good – not so soon after them visiting the Shire. His attire was already soaked through and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Well, nothing could be done about that now, so Bilbo shook out his curls and entered. Seeing his friends standing on one side of the room, the king glaring at them from the other, with Dwalin in-between made his blood run cold. How dare Thrain keep his guests from him? "What is going on here?"

 

Turning around the king gestured resentful, "These people claim familiarity with you. Yet they don't want to state their intentions when asked!"

When Bilbo looked puzzled at that revelation, Dwalin unexpectedly came to the elves’ rescue. "With all due respect, they did say that they came here to visit Bilbo, my Lord."

Smiling at his friend, who had drawn a hammer the first time he had come face to face with these particular guests, the hobbit nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Dwalin. Well, follow me. You look like you are in dire need of a cup of tea."

Thrain, however, intercepted Bilbo's path. "You can't just leave elves roaming these mountains. Who knows what they will be up to!"

Taking a steadying breath, reminding himself that his king had excellent reasons to be partial against elves, and that now was not the time to share his opinion on that particular matter, Bilbo replied amicably, "Fortunately, neither made an according request. With your permission, I will now see to the need of my guests, in my own home, my Lord. Dwalin, please join us."

Well, Thrain could hardly argue with that, especially since the royal consort took one of their most trusted warriors with him. Reluctantly the king allowed them to pass. How, by Mahal, was he supposed to ensure their hobbit's safety, if Bilbo invited the enemy into his smial?

As soon as he was alone, Thrain sent for his son.

~ ♥ ~

"Remarkable restraint."

"Same to you. I thought you considered all elves a nuisance." Bilbo smiled at his bald friend.

"Some less than others." Dwalin replied grumpily. Turning towards their tall guests, the dwarf felt the need to point out (where the hell was Balin when he needed him, he was the diplomat of the family). "We are all very grateful for your help. Even if not every dwarf in this mountain might realize it. Have a good day." And with these not unkind words, he left the trio at the Mountaintop.

The hobbit could only chuckle at Dwalin's brash behaviour when he opened his home and invited his fair friends in. "Let's go to the kitchen, you look cold. A nice cup of tea will warm you right up. A few sandwiches will sustain you, while I put new sheets in the guestroom, before I make supper. I do hope you plan to stay."

Slowly losing the tension that had held them upright since leaving Rivendell, looking around in a new but oh so familiar home, inhaling the smells that were so uniquely hobbit, the brothers shared tentative smiles. Yes, it had been the right decision to visit their little friend, after leaving the Grey Havens. The journey was strenuous and the storm front, that was approaching from the south, was the perfect excuse to stay for a few days.

With hobbits in general and Belladonna and her family in particular, things had always been so simple. As if the horrors Middle Earth, could not touch them when they were with a Baggins. Still, they startled when Bilbo lost his grip on the cups and they clattered over the counter. When he turned around, they could see their heartache reflecting in his eyes.

Bilbo's voice was laced with grief when he whispered, "Elladan, Elrohir, I am so sorry. I forgot."

The next moment he had his arms around them.

"It's alright."

"We just wanted …"

"Could we maybe stay a few days?"

Hugging his fair friends, the hobbit nodded. "Tomorrow I will host a feast for New Year's Eve, Shire Reckoning. You know all guests but Thrain from Bag End already. I'm afraid our king already made less than a stellar impression. I am sorry about that, by the way. There is a reason for his prejudice, yet none for his rudeness. If you could maybe ignore that for a bit, I am sure the others would be delighted for you to join us."

"Don't worry about it," Elladan assured him, and Elrohir injected. "But do you think it wise for us to attend your feast? It might make for a tense atmosphere."

Shaking his head, Bilbo pulled back when he felt the twins relax a little. "No, no hiding in your room. You are my friends. I have known you my entire life. If my father-in-law has a problem with that, it's his concern and neither mine nor yours. And now we will have a nice cup of tea and some sandwiches. You will feel better afterwards. We will then prepare your room, so that you can have a little nap before supper."

"Thank you." The gratitude shone bright in the elves' eyes. But Bilbo would have none of that. They were cherished friends and would always have a place in his home. "You're welcome."

~ ♥ ~

"We have guests?" Thorin's deep voice pulled Bilbo out of his musings. Putting away the knife he had held for the last few minutes without putting it to use, the hobbit washed his hands to greet his husband properly. After sharing a kiss, he confirmed, "Yes, Elladan and Elrohir came to visit. They are resting before supper. I think they are too tired to make it to dinner."

The dwarf had presumed the nature of their guests, after a lengthy discussion with his father, concerning their hobbit's safety. It sat very ill with Thrain to have, once again, representatives of the firstborn in his mountain. Though Thorin had assured him that these particular elves had been Bilbo's friends since the moment of his birth, his father had not been soothed. The prince had expected the sombre expression in the king's eyes. Not so in Bilbo's.

After the summer, he had thought his husband thrilled to have his friends around once again. Gently brushing a brown curl out of his beloved's face, Thorin asked softly, "What is it, love? Are you not happy to see them again? If it is father that concerns you, I can assure you …"

"It's not your father," the hobbit interrupted him quietly. "It's their mother …"

"What about their mother? Did she accompany them and you don't like her?" The chatter in the mountain, as well as his father, had only talked about two elves, but you could never know. And though his partner usually was open and friends with everybody he met, there were a few, selected people, he preferred not to deal with.

Sinking down on the kitchen-bench, the hobbit looked at his hands. Now seriously worried, Thorin sat down beside him and put a steadying hand on his back yet waited patiently, for Bilbo to find his voice. "Celebrían was beautiful, or so they told me, when I asked about Lord Elrond's wife for the first time. But she left for Valinor some 420 years ago."

Slowly catching up with what his husband was telling him, Thorin pondered. "Not some 420 years ago but exactly, am I right? They are here after recalling the anniversary of losing their mother."

Bilbo nodded dejectedly. "Every decade they visit the Grey Havens to honour her memory. The last two times they came to the Shire afterwards. They arrived about two weeks into the New Year. Mum always joked about them being her lucky charm. Still, she knew the reason for them passing though and always had a warm room for them and never asked questions."

"Why is Arwen not with them?"

The hobbit made an uncertain gesture. "For all I know, she is visiting her grandmother in Lothlórien."

"Lothlórien?"

"Yes, the Lady Galadriel. She rules there with her husband Celeborn."

"The Lady Galadriel?" Thorin was dumbfounded. "But that would make them high elves. Our ancient legends place the birth of the Queen of Lórien in Valinor."

"So?"

"So? Are you aware that you host members of the most powerful race in all Middle Earth under your roof?"

Chuckling, Bilbo caressed his husband's cheek. "Where is this echo coming from, my love? And second, of course I know, I studied their linage in Rivendell. But what does that matter? Them being kings and queens or paupers doesn't make any difference, as long as they are my friends. And right now I have two friends in my smial who are hurting."

What a remarkable person his husband was. Even after two years, Bilbo still was able to amaze him. Kissing his hobbit's forehead, Thorin rose from the bench. "Alright, you finish supper since it is nearly past dinner, a hasty meal does not bode well for anybody, and I will fetch Fíli and Kíli."

"Why?" Though Bilbo rose dutifully, inwardly amused how hobbitish his husband sounded. "I am not sure the boys are the ideal company right now."

Smiling slightly, Thorin nudged him towards the stove. "Elladan and Elrohir did not come here to reminisce but to feel better. Nobody derails your thoughts easier than our boisterous nephews."

Smiling faintly, Bilbo nodded. "That is true."

At the door, the dwarf hesitated for a moment. "Why did she leave? What happened that made a mother abandon her children and travel to the first continent?"

Closing his eyes against the pain on the rising memories, the hobbit revealed, "She was abducted by Orcs, tortured and … Elrond and the boys found her, but it was too late. Her light had nearly been extinguished. She was unable to find joy in Middle Earth any longer. I guess they all hope to find her healthy and whole again, once they make the journey. But until then they are bound to miss her."

"I am sorry," Thorin stated quietly. He might not like elves very much, but the children of Elrond were honourable people. And no child deserved to see their mother suffer such horrors.

"Thank you," Bilbo replied. "I know you have no particular liking for elves, but thank you for helping me make them feel better."

"Always, my love. Always."

~ ♥ ~

"We were here all afternoon!" Fíli burst out and Kíli added almost instantly, when he saw Thorin on their doorstep and noticed his sombre expression. "We really were, uncle."

Looking at his nephews for a heartbeat, trying very hard to keep the suffering in mind Dís would have to go thorough, if he strangled her boys for whatever they had done now, the prince shook his head. "It's alright, I didn't come here because something is wrong."

In a subdued voice Fíli contradicted, "You only ever come to our door when something is not right."

Frowning the older dwarf tried to remember the numerous times he had approached his nephews in their own rooms. He realized that Fíli was right. He never came to chat, only when there was a problem or they had slacked in their tasks. Regretting this, he pulled them into a gentle hug, he kissed their foreheads.

"You are right, Fíli, and I am sorry. Me being here only when there is trouble should not have become a common occurrence. I wish for us to spend time together as a family, free of any burden."

Burrowing into the unexpected hug for a moment, Kíli pulled back when he noticed their uncle's concern. "We do that," he assured. "Just not here. The Mountaintop is the place where we spend time together as a family. And that's alright. The smial feels much more like home than these rooms ever could."

"Then why won't you come and live with us?" Thorin wanted to know. "You know that Bilbo prepared a room just for the two of you."

Sharing a brief smile with his brother, Fíli revealed, "Because, Bilbo would restrain himself if we were around all the time. Though he went through with the public claiming, he is still very much a hobbit. We just think that he is much freer with his affection when the two of you are alone."

Thorin did not blush because he was a prince of the line of Durin, thank you very much. Still, his nephews' lewd grin implied that they saw right through him.

"Also, we have to keep an eye on mother," Kíli returned to the topic at hand.

Fíli chuckled, "Dwalin is not as sneaky as he thinks."

Smiling, easily imagining his best friend's lack of stealth, Thorin gestured upstairs. "Why don't you join us for dinner and tell us all about it? Elladan and Elrohir arrived today and I am sure they would love to hear one story or the other about Dwalin."

The glance the boys shared told him that they realized that there was more to this invitation than them telling a story. Still, once again proving how much they had matured since their time in the Shire, neither addressed that suspicion. Instead they followed wordlessly.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as the door closed behind them, Bilbo inquired, "Thorin, is it true what you said about Dís and Dwalin? That he isn't allowed to propose and she wouldn't be allowed to accept, because your father would never give his blessing to their union?"  
> Thorin confirmed, "Of course it is true."  
> "That's unfair."  
> Thorin merely shrugged. "Being a member of the royal family is not about fairness but about responsibility."


	22. Elladan & Elrohir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet it was, as it seemed, for his dwarven husband since Thorin merely shrugged. "Being a member of the royal family is not about fairness but about responsibility."  
> "Like it was with you and the boys when you came to the Shire."  
> His husband nodded drowsily. "Exactly."  
> "I hate that," Bilbo grumbled. "I hated it when I found out and I have not made my peace with it since."  
> "Don't, beloved," Thorin breathed out. "Don't hate something that has brought so much happiness into our lives."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly the third part of this story contains scenes I felt would happen. There is no great story arch for the third part and I apologize for that if the story is 'too boring' for you. For those who are still reading: enjoy the domestic and fluff.

"And then he tumbled over the new chest mother has bought just for him, in full armour and weapons." Fíli snickered and Kíli continued. "It sounded like a whole armoury exploded in mum's room! Fee and I shot up from bed and were halfway through the door before we recognized his cursing."

Elladan and Elrohir were laughing to tears and clutching their well filled bellies at the story. They remained oblivious to the triumphant look Thorin shared with his husband. Yet the hobbit's chuckle drew their attention and so they watched when he captured his dwarf's lips with a loving kiss.

The twins gazed at their storytellers and asked amusedly, "But he is your mother's consort. Shouldn't he know the layout of their rooms?"

That question dampened the smiles on the boys' faces a little.

"Dwalin is not our mother's consort." Fíli revealed in a sombre tone.

Kíli matched it, adding, "He only started to spend time in the royal wing somewhat regularly after his return from the Shire last summer."

Elladan looked astounded at the dwarves and Elrohir recalled, "But there is so much love between them. Why hasn't Dwalin asked for her hand until now?"

"Because my friend needed the push from a particular meddling hobbit, to even approach my sister," Thorin replied.

"That can't be right," Elladan mumbled. "Their love didn't feel new … there was more, much more than a recently discovered feeling."

With a soft smile, the dwarven prince shook his head. "I never said that their love was a recent development. Dwalin has adored my sister for a very long time. But as a princess, and because that fool of a dwarf hadn't dared to approach her with courting presents before, she married for political reasons."

"Mother and father were happy," Kíli seemed to feel the need to point out.

"But they never were in love," Fíli added. "They loved each other, but they were more friends than lovers."

"All things considered," Thorin grumbled. "Víli was a good husband. He treated my sister with respect and cherished the family she gave him. As far as arranged marriages go, they were lucky."

"Not as lucky as you," Elladan injected, pointedly looking at the distance, or lack thereof, where Bilbo and Thorin sat fused together at the dinner table.

"Not as lucky as me," the crown prince confirmed with a tilt of his head and a loving kiss to his husband's forehead. "But such a fortunate coincidence, a dwarf finding love in an arranged marriage, is rare. And Dwalin wouldn't ask her anyway."

"What?"

"Why?"

Facing the puzzled elves and his hobbit, the dwarves explained their customs. Kíli went first. "Because our mother is a princess. She can't be proposed by a 'commoner'. The sons of Fundin are too far removed from Durin's bloodline to be considered royalty."

Snorting, Fíli made an angry gesture. "And even if Dwalin would pluck up his courage – something he would never do, because it would reflect badly on his family name – grandfather would never give his permission."

"But your mother has already fulfilled her duties to secure the royal line," Elrohir objected such a bleak outlook for the star-struck lovers. "What more could your king expect from his daughter?"

"Marrying her to a hobbit," Bilbo huffed, crossing his arms irritated. "Seems to be the theme of the decade."

Feeling the need to defend his father, Thorin reminded his husband, "She could do worse. But father has to think of our people. Our marriage caused enough of an uproar and some are downright opposed to it. Just remember the Yuletide Ball."

As if Bilbo could ever forget.

"What happened?" Their guests wanted to know.

"There was an assassination attempt on Bilbo," Thorin grumbled angrily.

"What?"

"By whom?" The easy atmosphere of the evening shifted and Elladan and Elrohir's attitude changed into that of warriors, their eyes shining with cold determination. They wanted to find out who had dared to raise a hand against their cherished hobbit, prepared to avenge him.

"It doesn't matter," the hobbit tried to calm his friends, since their attitude sat very ill with him.

Thorin assured them as well, "The instigators were already taken care of. Mostly."

"Mostly?" The brothers shot up from their seats, glaring at Bilbo. "We demand to know who plotted against you, so we can bring him to justice!"

When the hobbit didn't cave under their angry glares, they repeated themselves, in the language of their people so their host would know how serious they were. _~Bilbo, you will tell us this instant who tried to murder you. These dwarves were supposed to keep you safe! Our father promised Belladonna that your family would always be protected. So we will …~_

Enough was enough. Slowly Bilbo rose from his own chair, glaring at his fair friends before he left the kitchen. Instantly the elves followed. Crossing the living room, opening the big, round door that led to the terrace, he invited them to step outside, closing the door behind himself quietly. Once outside the words he clenched his teeth, fighting for composure. " **That** was entirely unnecessary! How can you imply that my family is not up to the task of protecting me? They might not have your experience but that does not make them any less strong or determined to protect me!" Having grown louder with each word, he took another breath, forcing himself not to calm down. "I would greatly appreciate it if you went in there and apologized, for I don't care for you to insult my family in their own home. Have I made myself clear?"

Elladan and Elrohir visibly deflated, looking at the icy ground chagrined.

"That's not what we meant to imply," Elrohir started and Elladan continued quietly. "We are just worried for you. You have so few years on Middle Earth. The idea that they are cut even shorter is unbearable."

Taking a deep breath, forcing himself to let go of his anger, Bilbo shook his head and gestured towards his kitchen. "Don't you think that it is the same for them? That the mere idea of me being in danger suffocates my husband whenever I go out? I am armed, I wear armour and I rarely leave this smial without my guard, just so that Thorin can see to his duties unconcerned.

"My family, my friends, even my king do their best to make sure no one with malicious intent ever comes near me. They have enough of a bad conscience as it is. They don't need condescending friends of the family to add to that."

Sufficiently berated, the twins returned to the kitchen and apologized. They explained how they had not doubted the Durin family's ability to keep their hobbit safe. The boys looked at their uncle for guidance. Only when he accepted the apology with a benevolent nod, did they smile again and resumed their stories.

 

The evening ended peacefully with Fíli and Kíli inviting the elves to join them for a hunt tomorrow. Though prey would be hard to come by during the winter, the elves readily agreed because, as all were aware, the trip would take their minds off the past.

Bilbo stayed quiet through clean-up. Thorin wanted to ask about his thoughts but was aware that he had to wait until they went to bed.

The hobbit saved him the trouble by asking, as soon as the door to the master bedroom closed behind them, "Is it true what you said about Dís and Dwalin? That he isn't allowed to propose and she wouldn't be allowed to accept, because your father would never give them his blessing?"

Sliding into bed, Thorin confirmed, "Of course it's true."

"That's unfair." Unbelievable even, especially for someone who came from a society where people never married for another reason than love. Of course things like 'political marriages' existed in the Shire. There were couples that were strongly encouraged by their families to consider a permanent arrangement. But ultimately it was up to them if they wanted to spend their lives together. That two people loved each other but simply weren't allowed to marry was unimaginable to the hobbit.

Yet it was, as it seemed, for his dwarven husband since Thorin merely shrugged. "Being a member of the royal family is not about fairness but about responsibility."

"Like it was with you and the boys when you came to the Shire."

His husband nodded drowsily. "Exactly."

"I hate that," Bilbo grumbled. "I hated it when I found out and I have not made my peace with it since."

"Don't, beloved," Thorin breathed out. "Don't hate something that has brought so much happiness into our lives."

When Thorin tried to look up to make sure Bilbo understood, the hobbit trapped him on his chest with a gentle hand. "It's alright, my sweet, sleep now."

When the dwarf complied, the hobbit turned towards the window and stared up into the starless night. Not being able to marry the person you loved, especially after you had finally found it after decades, was not right and Bilbo made the decision that night that he wouldn't have that. Not in his family!

~ ♥ ~

It was an hour till dawn when Thorin's anxious shouts woke not only his husband from his well-deserved slumber, but their guests as well.

The spouses had developed a system to deal with these recurring nightmares. Depending on the hour they chose alcohol, a relaxing pipe or some tea when it was close to dawn. After a light first breakfast and about an hour of work, they would give rest another chance before starting their day with elevenses.

Today Bilbo and Thorin faced two pale and obviously worried elves in the twilight of the corridor, but sent them back to bed with a soothing, "Don't worry. It was just a nightmare. Please return to your chamber."

Relieved that nothing serious had happened, the twins obliged. At that time, they did not know that this pattern would repeat itself every night for the following week.

~ ♥ ~

The upcoming storm already coloured the horizon when the elves and dwarves returned from their hunting trip, the next evening. The air felt charged, but all four were in high spirits, since they had managed to catch a huge stag. In a team effort, they carried the deer towards the royal butchery. Tomorrow, one of the butchers had promised to skin and cut it, so the royal consort could fill his pantry. Though refusing coins in exchange for his services, he readily accepted the entrails and silver skin to make sausage.

On their way to the royal wing, Kíli offered, "Would you like to use our uncle's old bathroom to freshen up? We could provide towels and robes."

"Why would we want that?" Elladan wondered.

Elrohir recalled, "We used Bilbo's bath chamber already. It seems in perfect working order."

Fíli grinned proudly. "Of course it is. We built it! But the party will start soon. That means Bag End will be a beehive of activity." The blond dwarf realized his mistake the moment the words had left his mouth and sadness darkened his features. Kíli mirrored his expression, which made the elves put a comforting hand on each of the dwarves' shoulders.

"You did an amazing job with Bilbo's new smial. And our hobbit certainly has enough people that care about him in this mountain, for it to become a home. Just give it time."

Fíli did his best to force a smile on his face. The elves just squeezed his and his brother's shoulder comfortingly before making their way to the Mountaintop.

~ ♥ ~

Bombur had taken the afternoon off to help Bilbo in the kitchen, as had Dori. The silver-haired dwarf had left his teahouse in the trusted hands of his employee. Tamon and Eikinskjaldi were currently following their prince's instructions and wrestled every available table and chair into submission, creating a big enough banquet table that reached from one end of the living room to the other, so that Bilbo and Thorin would be able to host family and friends. When Elladan and Elrohir entered, they were roped into lending a hand immediately. They barely had time to make use of the formerly praised facilities.

More dwarves arrived every few minutes. But instead of being given a drink and a quiet corner to wait for dinner, everybody received a task to join the preparations for the feast. That went so far that Bilbo pushed plates and cutlery into Thrain's hands, when his father-in-law arrived, so he could set the table. Though the king noticed that he had been given a similar task as the elves, he didn't say anything.

When dinner was finally served, Thrain chose a place as far away from Elladan and Elrohir as possible. Though he didn't say anything, his constant glaring made for an awkward atmosphere. He seemed entirely taken aback, when his own daughter started to make conversation with the elvish guests. And after a while, the rest of the company was included. Thrain watched and listened.

Over the hours of the hobbit's New Year's Eve, he discovered how naturally the elves had become a part of Bilbo Baggins' life from the moment of his birth. They had cared for him during his first and second stay in Rivendell, when he had been nothing but a mischievous toddler. They had aided his Sindarin lessons as patient conversationalists.

An animated discussion with none other than Ori made Thrain finally realize the lengths Elrond's children had gone to make sure that Bilbo would have what he desired most: a way to save a mountain of dwarves from starvation.

No, elves would never be his favourite people in Middle Earth, but even he had to admit, at least to himself, that Thranduil and Lord Elrond's folk could not be more different. Where the inhabitants of Greenwood had always acted superior and looked down at them, the children of Rivendell were supportive, caring and obviously not afraid to get their hands dirty when digging through foreign soil or, in the case of these twins, allow themselves to be bossed around by one little hobbit, when the barrels of ale were empty once again.

So when Bilbo raised his glass a few moments to midnight, Thrain joined him and spoke up at the hobbit's surprised, yet encouraging nod. "To our family, the one by blood and the one by choice. And to our friends, old and new alike. But especially to those who have proven themselves trustworthy and supportive, even without us knowing it. A very happy New Year, Shire Reckoning, to all of you," he added with a smile, making everybody at the table chuckle, nearly missing the respectful nod the king of Ered Luin and the sons of Elrond exchanged.

Bilbo however had been very attentive, as had Nori. Both couldn't supress their triumphant grin, when their eyes met, after Thrain had reclaimed his seat again. Sometimes friends could be found in the most unexpected places, even smials built for courageous and adventurous little hobbits in a mountain full of dwarrows.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over the day, the storm strengthened into a blizzard. The winds howled around the mountain and beat against the stone. But dwarven architecture proved stronger than even this force. Balin and Dwalin arrived on Bilbo's doorstep around tea-time. Dori, Nori and Ori, as well as Bifur and Bofur joined them for dinner. The rest of 'Baggins' Dwarrows' filtered in, until everyone of their friends was present at supper.


	23. Friends and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins lay splayed out on Bilbo's big quilt, in the middle of the living room. Elrohir had his head on Elladan's stomach, tinkering with a sharp knife and a small piece of wood. His brother had a similar piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see from the chapter summary, this part will be quite domestic. But I wanted to shed a little light on Bilbo and the elven-twins relationship. I hope you will enjoy it.

The storm Elladan and Elrohir had prophesied hit the mountains in the early morning hours. The sky was clouded over and the sun so weak that nobody could say whether it had fully risen. Like the day before, Fíli and Kíli arrived in time to help with second breakfast. Afterwards everybody chose a comfortable corner in the living-room, tinkering with stones, metal or wood, listening to their hobbit reading from one of his books.

From their place on the padded windowsill, the dwarven siblings slowly began to realize why their unusual relationship had not fazed Bilbo as much as they might have expected. Two summers ago, when they had gotten to know the elven twins and their siblings, they all had appeared larger than life. They had been kind and supportive, even playful at times, but still untouchable in a way. The twins had mostly spent their time away from Bag End, to search for a solution for their manuring problem. It had seemed as if the elves of Rivendell existed on a plane different from theirs, with unlimited energy and unwavering patience to draw from.

That otherworldly impression was slowly ebbing away, since the twins lay splayed out on Bilbo's big quilt, in the middle of the living room. Elrohir had his head on Elladan's stomach, tinkering with a sharp knife and a small piece of wood. His brother had a similar piece. On occasion they exchanged a few, quiet words in the language of their people, so as to not interrupt the storyteller, before swapping workpieces, all the while listening to the tale, occasionally commenting on it. They obviously had heard it many times before.

Now, in the middle of their lazy day, Fíli and Kíli were finally able to catch a glimpse behind the facades of strong, ageless warriors that their new uncle had known all his life. There was sadness and heartache when one of the stories struck a particular chord in their hearts. But there was also joy and happy memories reflecting on their faces. Most of all, however, there was tenderness in every single interaction between them. A brush over the forehead. The slow, caressing pull on a strand that got in the way of tinkering. A gentle stroking of finger over finger when they traded their workpieces. They didn't even seem to notice these gestures. Being two halves of one whole made them exist in perfect synchrony.

Subtly, Kíli nudged his brother. _> Do you think we will ever become like them? So sure in each other's presence that we won't even think about it any longer?<_

For a moment, Fíli looked at the pair on the floor, but then shook his head.

_> Why not?<_

At his brother's indignant expression, the blond chuckled and leaned closer to caress his brother's face, before kissing him lovingly. Breathing against Kíli's forehead, he whispered. _> Because to me this will always be a gift. Something special that I don't ever want to take for granted.<_

With a choked sound, Kíli scrambled over the bench to crawl into his brother's lap, snuggling into him. _> I don't want that either.<_

Caressing his brother's dark hair, kissing his head, Fíli reassured, _> Then we won't let that happen.< _He sat the peridot he had been carving aside and started the taxing task of untangling his brother's unruly hair. Kíli sank down bonelessly, his face in his brother's lap, languidly stretched out over the windowsill.

The dwarves needed a few moments to notice that they were under scrutiny. When they looked at the elves questioningly, Elladan just shook his head, but Elrohir spoke up. _> A kiss from the person that carries half of your heart will always be special. But the urge to prove yourself diminishes over the centuries. With each passing decade you learn to trust a little more, are a little more at ease until one day you simply know, right down to your bones, that this is the way it has been, still is, and always will be.<_

Having ignored the quiet mumbling in favour of listening to his husband's soothing voice, Thorin now looked up from the metal leaf he was trying to engrave. _> You speak Khuzdul?<_

Turning around on the floor, the twins simply nodded.

_> Who taught you?<_ The dwarven prince demanded.

_> I don't remember,<_ Elrohir admitted.

Elladan however, was able to recall, _> Father did. We had just returned from Lothlorien, a few centuries ago, and had had a run-in with a particular trigger-happy dwarven clan from Moria. Mother was able to soothe them, but not before we got ourselves a broken nose and a sprained wrist.<_

Chuckling, Elrohir continued, _ >I remember. When we returned, she practically shoved us into the library and father right after us. 'The least you can do for your extended neighbours,' she said …<_

_> Is showing respect by learning their language.<_ Bilbo finished quietly. "It sounds strange in Khuzdul, even stranger than in Sindarin." The hobbit whispered. "Yet it was the first sentence my mother had me translate after I had begun my studies with you."

"Yes," The brothers admitted quietly, switching to Westron again. "Our mothers were very much alike."

'We miss them,' … lingered in the air between the three, even though it remained unspoken.

After a while, during which nobody had said anything, Bilbo looked at his husband. "Would you play for me?"

Literally jumping at the chance to do something to ease Bilbo's mind, Thorin kissed his hobbit's head and went to fetch his harp.

For quite some time everybody listened to Thorin, before Fíli and Kíli joined him in song. A small smile lit up the hobbit's face once again, when he realized that he was finally able to understand the words of his husband's favourite songs. With a light heart, he went for the kitchen to make lunch, since they had idled elevenses away.

~ ♥ ~

Over the day, the storm strengthened into a blizzard. The winds howled around the mountain and beat against the stone. But dwarven architecture proved stronger than even this force. Balin and Dwalin arrived on Bilbo's doorstep around teatime. Dori, Nori and Ori, as well as Bifur and Bofur joined them for dinner. The rest of 'Baggins's Dwarrows' filtered in, until every one of their friends was present at supper. Fortunately, Bombur had planned for this and had brought a big pot of stew and several loaves of bread.

The last meal of the day was much quieter than Bilbo would have expected. Still, he enjoyed the unexpected company since it proved how much his friends cared. Though he hadn't shared with all of them the circumstances of his parents’ death, everybody seemed to be aware that weather like this bothered him. He made an effort to reassure them that he was alright when they departed. There was no need to concern them with his silly fears.

Bilbo saw to his guests', the boys’ and his husband's comfort, before making one last round through the smial to make sure that all windows and doors were safely locked. Peeking into the master bedroom, Bilbo found his husband fast asleep already. Good for him, the hobbit decided. Thorin still got far too little sleep as things were. They barely made it through a night without one of them waking at least once. On impulse, he decided to make sure that the door at the back of the smial was closed and locked, though, at Thorin's request, they rarely unlatched it.

 

Later Bilbo could not recall why he had felt the need to open it and look outside. All he remembered was the icy wind and the snow biting into his face. Within moments he felt frozen to the bone and only came back to himself when a tall figure pulled him back and hugged him tight. He was wrapped in a soft cloak that smelled like spring and fresh grass. The door was locked, latched and Bilbo was pulled into the guestroom at the back of his smial.

His face felt numb, so he reached for it to find out what was wrong.

_~…lbo, please, talk to us!~_

_~What's wrong? Say, something, please.~_

Raising his head, the hobbit faced two elves who let their hands roam over his body, anxiously looking over him.

_~We heard the wind beating against the wall.~_

_~And found you standing on the threshold of your back door, ice drifting into the corridor.~_

_~Please, tell us what happened.~_

They loved him, Bilbo had always known, could see it in their eyes. He knew they had fallen for him the moment Arwen had placed him in their arms mere moments after his birth, so she and Elrond could care of his mother. His father had told him this story many times, of how Elladan and Elrohir had come to find him and had placed the newborn, who had looked at them in awe, into his arms. Bilbo had stared at Bungo with equal fascination, drinking in his father's face, his tiny fists clenching the hobbit's pinkie. It had taken several moments before Bilbo had decided that he had seen enough and had started screaming, as was expected of a baby.

The hobbit could recall bits and pieces of his first visit to Rivendell, where the twins had trailed after the adorable little fauntling, as they had always called him. They had done their best to keep up with Bilbo's inquisitive mind when he had wanted to know the past, present and future of everything he laid eyes upon. They had been around him every year he had visited Rivendell. When his lessons with their father had been over for the day, they had helped him practise. When he returned from his strolls through their gardens with their little sister, they had directed him to the kitchen for a snack.

To not worry them further, Bilbo wanted to tell them that he was fine really, like he had done with the rest of his friends. That they should go back to bed. Fortunately, the wind had stolen his screams and he had not woken the entire smial. He didn't want his family to worry. But when he finally opened his mouth a sob tore free, and before the hobbit could get a grip on himself, tears started streaming down his face. He could not even explain what had upset him, all Bilbo knew was that it was too much. Everything was too much and the blizzard and the ice had been the last piece to tip the scale.

Not really aware of what was going on, he allowed Elrohir to hug him tight, ushering him towards the kitchen. A mug of steaming tea was pushed into his hand and once the liquid was gone and his tears had dried, Bilbo was guided to his bed and tucked in with his husband.

At some point during the night, Thorin started to shiver, but Bilbo was in too much of a daze to do something about it. There was some comforting mumbling and though his dwarf left the bedroom, he returned soon, his breath smelling somewhat familiar. With a sleepy smile, Bilbo kissed him, before pulling him close once again. Neither woke before second breakfast.

~ ♥ ~

Bilbo and Thorin hadn't been home all day to make up for their laziness of the day before. So the twins had made good use of the hobbit's kitchen and prepared some vegetable stew with freshly baked bread. During dinner, Elrohir asked, "You are both suffering from nightmares and are obviously exhausted. When did this start?"

Until now, the hobbit had been enjoying the elvish dish, despite his husband's quiet protests that he was not a rabbit and consequently didn't deserve their kind of food. At that question however, Bilbo looked up and traded a concerned glance with Thorin.

These elves were Bilbo's friends, the dwarven prince had to remind himself. They did not inquire about these things to dig for a weakness, but because they wanted to help. They always only wanted to help …

A glance towards his hobbit told Thorin, that Bilbo was prepared to share what had happened, but not without his consent. His husband's first concern was always Thorin's wellbeing and didn't that make Thorin love him all the more? Reaching for his husband's hand, he brushed a kiss over his wrist and revealed, "Last year we made our journey back from the Shire without guards. It did not go as planned. I was abducted and tortured. Bilbo saved me but we’ve had nightmares ever since."

Fury lit up the elves’ eyes when they forced out from behind clenched teeth, "What became of them?"

Startled by the strong reaction, the dwarf looked up from his plate. He didn't feel comfortable discussing his abduction. Still it surprised him that the elvish twins acted the same way, hearing about his plight, as they had done when learning about Bilbo's attack. The latter was understandable, since they cared a lot for the hobbit. But him …? "Why does that bother you?"

Perplexed, Elladan hissed, "How could it not?"

And Elrohir added, slightly more evenly, "You are our honourable brother by marriage. Of course we care!"

Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the disbelief on his husband's face. He had not doubted his friends' commitment to his dwarves. They would not have gone to such lengths to help him provide for them, if they didn't care. But it was a comfort to see them act all angry on Thorin's behalf when they learned about his suffering.

"I carved the word 'thief' into their foreheads," he shared coldly, "And then I took everything from them but their clothes and their miserable lives."

"Vicious," Elrohir remarked, eased by the revenge executed.

The brothers smiled. "We like it."

"Anyway," the elves continued, "We will leave tomorrow after first breakfast, since the storm has eased. But we would like to leave you the tea we brought with us. It calms the body and eases the mind. It's not a permanent solution, but it might help you to get at least a day or two of calming rest each week."

"Isn't that something you wrote to Lord Elrond about?" Thorin recalled. He had been irritated that Bilbo had shared his sufferings with the elves, but nothing had come of it, so he had forgotten all about it.

"Really?" Elladan wondered. "Father didn't say anything."

"Maybe the letter didn't reach Rivendell," Bilbo brushed it off easily. "It's not as if there are carrier ravens who travel that distance regularly."

"Carrier pigeons, you mean." Elladan corrected him.

But Bilbo shook his head with a small smile. "Not when you're corresponding with dwarves. Then it's very much ravens."

Chuckling the brothers shook their heads. "Anyway, we are leaving you with our supply. It should help for a while. Just use it sparsely, only when the nights get too bad."

"Thank you," Bilbo reached for their hands and squeezed softly. Surely with a little help from a calming draught, things would become much easier. To be constantly tired, while still having to see to one's duties, was wearing both him and Thorin thin. He counted his blessings with both Yavanna and the other Valar that his elvish friends had stopped by.

~ ♥ ~

First breakfast the next day was quiet, even with the dwarven brothers and the elven twins present. Bilbo hugged them on his doorstep and even Thorin was pulled in for a quick pat on the back.

Fíli and Kíli, who had insisted on joining the last meal Elladan and Elrohir shared in the mountain, picked up the care packages Bilbo had prepared for his friends and promised to hide them in the elves' backpacks before sending them off. Elladan and Elrohir pretended not to notice, when the brothers fumbled with their saddle-bags before hugging them good-bye. Best not to contradict a hobbit's plans when it came to food.

Looking up at Ered Luin, they shared a content smile before heading for the Shire. The Tooks and numerous other relatives of Bilbo's would want to hear how their hobbit was doing amongst dwarves. And their father would share their curiosity. This time, they would be able to set all hearts at ease. Bilbo had a wonderful family and enough friends to have a chance of a truly content life. His parents would be happy for him.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin found his husband sitting in the kitchen, staring into a tall glass generously filled with a clear liquid. Familiar with the bottle that stood on the table, Thorin recognized the contents as Fortumbra's liquor. Though Bilbo was more used to this drink than any dwarf in this mountain, even he would give himself alcohol-poisoning, if he drowned all of this in one go. Fortunately, for now he was only rolling the glass between his hands.


	24. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smiling, Thorin brushed over the baby's dark hair, a mirror image of his mother's, and whispered tenderly, "Welcome to Erebor, Kíli. You are born into the last dwarven kingdom of old. You have a loving mother, an adoring father and a brother that will always look out for you. I am sure your future will be bright and full of happiness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think this chapter summary is confusing? Read on, it gets worse ;).

Bilbo and Thorin made it three nights without any major disturbances, but on the fourth, both woke up in cold sweat, their hearts beating out of their chests. As long as but one of them had night terrors, the other could soothe him. But now that both were sitting at the table in the kitchen shivering while clutching their cups of camomile tea, no comfort could be found.

With a sigh, Bilbo reached for the box of tea leaves the elven twins had left behind. They had schooled him on the dangers of relying on herbal comfort. It was but a temporary solution while you worked on overcoming the troubles that burdened your soul. But Bilbo and Thorin were just so tired. Wordlessly the hobbit offered a cup and thankfully after a bare quarter of an hour, both stumbled back to bed and passed out cold.

~ ♥ ~

> _"Why don't you stay? Honestly, Bella, Bungo, in all this snow it's far too dangerous to return to Bag End tonight. Wolves were spotted within our borders. It is far safer for Bilbo if you make use of my guest-room. It's small but more comfortable than trudging through this blizzard."_
> 
> _Bilbo was thankful when his parents agreed to his uncle's offer. Of course the wolves would not cross the borders of the Shire. The Brandywine river worked as a natural border, protecting their people from harm. But the young hobbit had felt an unexplainable dread of going out tonight. They were far safer in uncle Hildigrim's smial. The guestroom might only offer one double-bed. But Bilbo was entirely comfortable on his makeshift mattress on the floor. He fell asleep easily, to the comforting sound of his parents' breathing._
> 
> _The next morning, news about the claw-marks on several doors reached Hobbiton. The young hobbit's insides felt like ice at the mere idea that it could have been his parents and him out there, getting clawed at._
> 
> _Who knew if they had survived?_

| 

> _"You know it's necessary, my love." Thorin's mother spoke in soft tones, yet the determination shining in her eyes left no doubt that she would get her will. "Thrór spends more time in the treasury each day. Our people need a strong leader. You are next in line for the throne, Thráin. All you have to do to ensure our safety is take over a little earlier than planned."_
> 
> _His father felt uncomfortable, plotting his king's involuntary dethronement. But even Thorin could see that he was well aware that there was no way around it._
> 
> _As always, Balin acted as a voice of reason, recalling the traditions. "Since the king clearly does not have our peoples' best interest at heart any longer, you are well within your rights, prince Thráin, to act as ruler in his place."_
> 
> _Thorin was too young to participate in this discussion, he was merely allowed to listen in. He was second in line for the throne after his father, yet for now, he was content to see to his studies and have fun with his best friend Dwalin during weapons training and outside of it. Still, his grandfather losing himself more and more to the call of the gold, as it had happened to their ancestors before, his mother considered this discussion a valuable lesson for him._
> 
> _It felt odd to see his mother directing the fate of Erebor by gentle suggestions, nudging her husband into the desired direction with but a few chosen words of wisdom. A part of Thorin was convinced that his mother shouldn't even be here, that horrible things were about to happen. But when Freya looked at him, he shook off these silly thoughts._
> 
> _"Thorin, love, do you think you could talk to the guards? Discover their opinion unobtrusively. You spend more time with them than any of us."_
> 
> _"Training is important!" Thorin defended himself, convinced all of a sudden, that his mother was well aware of what he was doing in the barracks. "You said so yourself when I started," he added defensively._
> 
> _Chuckling, his mother brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Of course it is, my son. And I don't doubt for a heartbeat that you put all your time and effort into improving your fighting techniques, instead of … let's say … playing dice with the soldiers."_
> 
> _Blushing to the tips of his ears, Thorin looked down and mumbled, "Yes, mother."_  
  
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~ ♥ ~

"What did you dream about?" Bilbo inquired softly when serving tea. Ever since his dream he had a craving for his father's favourite blueberry pancakes, so he had made a batch of them for breakfast. Now they were steaming on a plate between them. With honey and a few extra berries, they would surely be delicious. Sitting down he noticed the relaxed air around his husband and was curious to find out what had brought it on. It was such a difference to the distressed picture, Thorin had presented in the night.

"Erebor," The dwarf recalled with a happy smile, reaching for a pancake and the jam. He really enjoyed Bilbo's cooking but most of the time his husband added a tad too much sweetness. Still, enjoying the fluffy texture and the freshness of the berries, Thorin recalled mornings with his mother and siblings when they had been little. He hadn't felt so relaxed in a while. "Mother was there and grandfather as well. He was sick, but mother was encouraging father to take over. We were happy, concerned but happy. Everything felt right. Like I had no worry in the world. What about you?"

"Fell Winter," Bilbo recalled. When he saw his husband's face fall, he quickly corrected his misapprehension. "No, it was great. My uncle Hildigrim convinced my parents to stay the night. We settled into a guest-room. My parents took the bed and I slept on a make-shift pillow-bed on the floor. I closed my eyes to their breathing and it felt like everything was as it should be. I was happy, because my family was together. I have not slept that peaceful in a long time."

"I know what you mean," Thorin smiled, mirroring his husband's expression, topping up his cup. "Maybe we should write a letter to Rivendell, include a small gift to relay our gratitude." The prince went over the tiny trinkets a raven could carry. He enjoyed Bilbo's smile at the idea of his dwarves sending gifts to the elves.

~ ♥ ~

The next night was far less peaceful, and in the evening, they peeked at the tea-jar. Still, it had not been that bad, so they went to sleep. After a moderately restful night, Bilbo and Thorin went about their day, prepared to wrangle councillors, guild masters and the farmers who were still concerned about the new corn they were about to seed.

When both returned to the Mountaintop in the evening, worn and tired from a strenuous day, the dwarf put the kettle on, and after a brief moments of hesitation the hobbit reached for the leaves. If their days went on like this, they needed more than one night of restorative sleep to build up their strength to deal with the demands of caring for a mountain of dwarves.

~ ♥ ~

> _"Bilbo, hold still!" Bungo jutted while dabbing his son's forehead. "You will get blood into your eyes if you continue fidgeting."_
> 
> _"But, dad, you should have seen it! I jumped and dodged and if this huge raveness would not have startled me, this would not have happened!"_
> 
> _Tutting, Belladonna stepped up to her men and carded her fingers through her son's short curls. "I have no doubt that it was a great adventure, my sweet. But now do as your father says and stop moving. We would not want such a handsome face distorted by a scar on the forehead."_
> 
> _'I could emphasize it with a tattoo. That would make me look more like a fearsome warrior.' Bilbo thought, but as soon as the idea crossed his mind, the young hobbit shook his head. A hobbit warrior. What a silly notion._
> 
> _"Did you at least emerge victorious?" His father wanted to know, while applying salve to the cleaned scratches. "Getting tumbled into bushes by a bird should be worth something."_
> 
> _Triumphant, Bilbo pulled a stiff satchel from his coat pocket. "Full to the brim with blueberries!" He smiled broadly. "They will add to mum's pie for my latest uncle's name giving ceremony."_
> 
> _Inspecting the berries, his parents confirmed with radiant faces. "The best pie of all. Your grandparents will be proud of you."_

| 

> _"He's the most beautiful dwarfling of all." Thorin praised before putting the new-born back into his brother-in-law's arms. "You can be proud of yourself and my sister, Víli. You have brought great honour to our family twice now."_
> 
> _"Thank you, Thorin," the fair dwarf replied, caressing his yawning son's forehead, brushing away a dark strand of hair that was clearly tickling him. "Dís is still resting, but she was able to decide what to call him at least. So this little guy won't have to face his family without a name."_
> 
> _"And how will we call the youngest son of Durin?"_
> 
> _"Kíli."_
> 
> _Smiling, Thorin brushed over the baby's dark hair, a mirror image of his mother's, and whispered tenderly, "Welcome to Erebor, Kíli. You are born into the last dwarven kingdom of old. You have a loving mother, an adoring father and a brother that will always look out for you. I am sure your future will be bright and full of happiness."_  
  
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~ ♥ ~

The next evening, the spouses merely shared a glance before preparing tea.

~ ♥ ~

> _"Yes, of course I agree with you, father." Bilbo's mother sighed, while refilling their teacups. Since Bungo was visiting his nephews in Southfarthing, it was Bilbo's duty to make his grandfather see reason. His mother was definitely too passionate regarding the subject. They would end up fighting if Bilbo didn't act as a mediator._
> 
> _Calmly he touched Gerontius's arm, asserting softly, "Even if the dwarves are rude and condescending and refused to help us guard our borders five years ago, shouldn't we prove that we are better than they are by acting like good neighbours are supposed to?"_
> 
> _Grumbling, the thain crossed his arms. "I don't see how it is my responsibility whether these people starve or not!"_
> 
> _"If the situation was reversed, wouldn't you want them to help?" His grandson probed gently._
> 
> _"I did want them to help," Gerontius sneered. "That's exactly my point! They refused us and our people suffered for it!"_
> 
> _Now it was Belladonna's turn to reach for her father's hands. Her voice was unbearably gentle when she asked, "And two wrongs make one right? Is that really what mother and you raised us all to believe?"_
> 
> _With a tired sigh, Bilbo's grandfather closed his eyes until the youngest hobbit nudged him, offering another piece of the sponge cake he had baked today. Food always made everything better. After a few moments, Bilbo suggested, "If you want to avoid them, let me deal with them. It's time I do my part for the Shire. Nobody expects you to take care of everything yourself, grandfather."_
> 
> _"Alright," the thain finally gave in. "I will redirect their letters to you. I'm sure Bungo will be able to help if you need advice. These Bagginses are born diplomats."_
> 
> _Chuckling, his daughter nudged him. "I'm now a Baggins as well."_
> 
> _Kissing his daughter's forehead, Gerontius chuckled, "In your heart you will always be a Took, my dear, no matter your last name. But Bilbo here has inherited the best of both you and Bungo. I'm sure, with a little support, he will be up to the task."_

| 

> _"Stop fighting! I can't braid your hair properly if you don't hold still, boys!" Thorin berated his nephews. He heard Dwalin chuckle from his place in the corner, while he and Víli tried to improve his rascal nephews' appearance._
> 
> _"Fíli, Kíli, hold still or I will do your braids myself."_
> 
> _The children froze when their mother spoke unexpectedly, having entered the same moment. Víli only smiled and got up to kiss her cheek. "You look beautiful, Dís. I'll be envied by every dwarf in Erebor. Won't I, Dwalin?"_
> 
> _"Of course, my Lord." Thorin's guard replied dutifully. But there was something in his tone that made the crown-prince look up. For a moment, he imagined heartache and longing in his best friend's eyes. But surely that was only a trick of the light._
> 
> _"Everybody is waiting. Are you ready?" The breath of every dwarf was stolen when Freya entered the chambers._
> 
> _Closing the last clasp on Kíli's head, Thorin approached his mother and bowed reverently, kissing her hand. "You look amazing, mother. Like a true queen of Erebor."_
> 
> _"Not yet," she smiled, straightening the appliances on her son's attire. "But if you hurry up a little, we can start with your father's coronation."_
> 
> _Thrór had been found dead only two days prior. He hadn't left the treasury for the last few months, had refused food or drinks out of fear that someone would poison him and steal his gold. His children and grandchildren had tried their best to feed him, however sparsely they had been allowed to enter. Every single time, they had tried to make him see reason, but in the end the old king's body had given out. The guards had found him in the morning, partially covered in gold, with a peaceful look on his face._
> 
> _His family mourned for him, but in their hearts they could not regret Thrór's reign ending and that his son could finally be crowned._
> 
> _To minimize the risk of Thráin falling victim to the same illness, Freya had convinced him to allow Balin, one of his most trusted advisors, to handle all matters concerning the royal treasury._
> 
> _Thorin watched his family, standing guard next to the throne as he should be, while his father received the crown. Yes, Erebor was finally entering a new, golden age. With Thráin as responsible and healthy ruler and Freya as beloved queen, what more could they wish for?_  
  
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~ ♥ ~

Every day for the last week, Thorin and Bilbo had enjoyed the elvish tea in the evening. Their days were long and filled with work. As soon as they returned to the Mountaintop, they had an opulent dinner, before they went straight to bed. Bilbo had not even suggested supper, wanting to keep their nights as long as possible. Both longed for the dark hours were they could get lost in happy dreams.

~ ♥ ~

> _Representing the thain, Bilbo had corresponded with someone named Balin. To his letters, the dwarf had attached lists of needed supplies from the chef of the Blue Mountains, a dwarf called Bombur._
> 
> _The needs of the dwarves of Ered Luin were extensive, but Bilbo had faith that the Shire would be able to help._
> 
> _As his grandfather had suggested, he had talked things through with his father. Bungo had sat beside his son for hours, going over the requirement lists, encouraging him to reach out to relatives and friends who could supply them. So the young hobbit had written letters and received replies from all over the Shire, organizing deliveries that would be picked up soon._
> 
> _In the middle of the summer, Bag End and the surrounding smials started their preparations for the arrival of the dwarves. A whole company was expected to collect their goods._
> 
> _The king's councillor arrived first, his grumpy, bald brother in tow. They were given a guest room and Bilbo took his time to go over the list of supplies he had been able to secure, with Balin._
> 
> _To appease his grandfather, he had agreed to charge the dwarves more than he would a hobbit. Still, the grumpy dwarf, Dwalin, seemed surprised when he learned the price they were about to pay. When Bilbo inquired about the reaction, Balin shared that amongst dwarves these prices would be considered very reasonable, cheap even. It seemed that both the hobbits and the dwarves, would come out of this trade on top._
> 
> _More dwarves arrived. Bilbo had special fun watching two rascal brothers who introduced themselves as Fíli and Kíli. A pale dwarf with a dark mane had accompanied them. He glared at them, whenever they started to make mischief instead of helping with the acquired food._
> 
> _The dwarf in question had not even introduced himself. Instead he looked down at the hobbit, heeding only the most basic rules of propriety, bordering on being rude. Bilbo could only shake his head at that. He had gone out of his way to help these people. But maybe his grandfather had been right all along and dwarves really were nothing but condescending when dealing with other races._
> 
> _The boys called him 'uncle'. And whenever Bilbo faced him, he felt like there was … no, there should be more to the two of them than being mere acquaintances. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was missing. Especially when this dwarf barely talked to anybody but the bald warrior, eliminating any chance of Bilbo getting to know him. All the hobbit knew was that he wanted something, even though he didn't know what that was, and it hurt not to be able to get it._

| 

> _The kingdom recovered from the suffering that Thrór's madness had brought upon it. Thráin was a just and benevolent ruler who cared for his people's wellbeing above all else._
> 
> _Freya made a gracious and kind queen, who supervised the trade both with the humans of Dale and the elves of Mirkwood. Every trading partner adored talking to her and that showed in the volume of their sales._
> 
> _Thorin himself had his hands full with keeping his nephews in check, since his sister and her husband were away quite often, to maintain and improve the relationship with Dain in the east._
> 
> _Fíli enjoyed strolling through the markets of Dale, gathering trinkets nobody could see any use in, yet managed to find appropriate presents in his stock for every diplomat or merchant who visited their king._
> 
> _The young dwarf was well aware that, after Thorin, he was next in line for the throne. And while his uncle could only roll his eyes at his nephew’s last purchase, he couldn't help but smile inwardly since their 'golden boy' at least made an effort to improve the relations between the dwarves of Erebor and everyone who visited._
> 
> _Things were slightly more difficult with Kíli. The youngest Durin had the tendency to disappear into Mirkwood for weeks at a time. Though Erebor entertained good relationships with the Woodland King, and Kíli became a better archer with each visit, Thorin did not particularly fancy the female elf who seemed to occupy his nephew's entire time during these visits. Still, life could not be better._
> 
> _Yet when he stood at the balcony of his room, enjoying a relaxing pipe after dinner, unable remember when he had developed that particular habit, Thorin looked at the green fields surrounding Erebor, losing himself in his thoughts._
> 
> _There had to be more than endless council sessions, tedious hours of studying ancient laws and discussions of where to marry him off to, to gain the most for the kingdom._
> 
> _He was a Durin and aware that a prearranged marriage was inevitable for him. His duty to his people had to come before all else, even his own happiness._
> 
> _Still, he longed for a smiling face with honey-brown curls and loving eyes that looked at him, like he was the most important person in the world. He was sure that the person his mind had conjured for him was not even a dwarf, the ears felt strange. Yet it was nobody he had ever seen. Maybe just a memory … from a distant dream._
> 
> _But if this person was only in his head, how came that his heart ache so much for someone he had never met?_  
  
---|---  
  
  
~ ♥ ~

Bilbo was not beside him when Thorin woke up in the wee hours of the morning. For a heartbeat, the dwarf was unsure if he was still trapped in the dream world the elvish herbs had helped to conjure. But then his eyes travelled over the low ceilings and the colourful picture of the Shire on the wall. Relieved, Thorin sank back into the pillows. Rubbing his chest to ease his aching heart. After a moment he fought past the haze of the tea and got out of bed.

He found his husband sitting in the kitchen, staring into a tall glass generously filled with a clear liquid. Familiar with the bottle that stood on the table, Thorin recognized the contents as Fortinbras's liquor. Though Bilbo was more used to this drink than any dwarf in this mountain, even he would give himself alcohol-poisoning if he drowned all of this in one go. Fortunately, for now he was only rolling the glass between his hands.

Bilbo downright flinched when Thorin brushed a hand over his curly head to make himself known. However, before he could apologize for startling him, his hobbit had captured his hand and clenched it tightly as if Thorin would pull away any moment. When he remained unmoving, Bilbo nuzzled into his palm, pulling it against his cheek. It was clear that the hobbit was anxious, since Thorin could feel a faint trembling through their contact. So he remained unmoving, allowing his beloved to calm down. Honestly, after the night he had just had, he felt better being close to Bilbo as well. So he leaned in and inhaled his beloved's soothing scent, nuzzling the golden curls, kissing his head softly.

"We can't go on drinking this tea, Thorin," Bilbo whispered. "The illusions our minds conjure might be comforting, but in the end they are nothing but dreams. Not real."

"Dreams of a happy place," Thorin confirmed. "But still lacking the most important things."

"You too?" Bilbo looked up at his husband tiredly. When Thorin nodded, the hobbit scooted over and pulled him down on the bench, looking at him encouragingly while holding his hand in both of his.

"I am back at Erebor," Thorin started. "I dreamed of my grandfather getting sick, but father was there this time, as was mother. They made everything better. I'm free of any responsibility when I sleep. Father is a just and caring ruler, free of bitterness. And mother stands by his side, advising and supporting him. Víli is still alive and he and Dís are travelling, leaving me with my nephews to care for. It's all learning and training for the responsibilities of becoming king one day without any chance to really screw up. But it's so …"

"Empty." Bilbo finished Thorin's sentence. "In my dreams my parents are still alive as well. Grandfather is not so disappointed and bitter, because of it. Things play out mostly the way they did two years ago, but with nobody dying in Fell Winter I am allowed to trade with you. Balin and Dwalin come to the Shire first. Though the rest of our friends follow everything … everybody is so distant. Like I am not even their friend. You are there as well, but you look sick and act condescending. It hurts and I don't think that I want to experience this ever again."

 

Thorin pulled his beloved close and kissed his forehead. Bilbo sounded so hesitant and unsure, as if he expected Thorin to hold on to this dream world. Of course he missed Erebor and his mother, but Erebor had fallen. He had led his people through half of Middle Earth. They had suffered death and heartache, but then they had crossed the Shire and found the Blue Mountains. They had been stubborn and egoistic, not caring for those around them, but once they had given up their pride, Thorin had been given the greatest gift imaginable: a husband whom he could love and who loved him in return.

Yes, he missed their ancient kingdom, the halls of his forefathers, the riches that lay beneath the mountain. His people had been happy there and prosperous. But his line had always been prone to the dragon sickness and his grandfather had succumbed to it in the end. Maybe Thráin would have suffered the same fate and Thorin after him if they still had a huge treasury to call their own. Here they barely made do, but they had enough food to satisfy their people. In a way Thorin was happier here than he had ever been in his former 'home'. So, despite mourning his peers, he had a hard time convincing his heart that not everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.

"Let's put down a detailed description of this tea's properties and then give it to Oin." Thorin suggested, pushing away the still full glass. Alcohol would not help tonight but maybe a soothing camomile tea. "I am sure many dwarves can benefit from its properties. The usage just has to be supervised."

"Agreed," Bilbo mumbled, snuggling into his husband's side. This was better, so much better than even the nicest dreams.

 

The nightmares would come back, probably with a vengeance since they had artificially suppressed them for more than a week. Still, neither of them wanted to avoid them any longer. Better to face their fears and overcome them than to get lost in a fantasy.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks of very little sleep later, Thorin and Bilbo had their first restful night again. It was nearly past second breakfast, before they opened their eyes. Both were aware that they would need more nights to be better again, but it was a start and they exchanged small, relieved smiles over the breakfast table, before talking about their day.


	25. Dwarvish contracts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Bilbo slammed the thick volume shut and tugged his hair in frustration. If he had to read just one more sentence starting with 'By way of derogation from the provisions laid down in the previous article …' he would start screaming and not in a nice way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have all been very patient. I promise it will be worth it ;).  
> My betareader Redone helped me with the lingo, I completely adore the complicated way dwarvish laws are written.

After two weeks of very little sleep, Thorin and Bilbo had their first restful night. It was nearly past second breakfast before they opened their eyes. Both were aware that they would need more nights like this to be better again, but it was a start and they exchanged small, tentative smiles over the breakfast table. They drained an entire pot of tea before they started to talk about their plans for the day.

"Training starts in half an hour. Then father holds an open court he wants me to attend. After lunch I have to meet with the Master of the Smiths. I think one of our forges is acting up. But he didn't give me any details when requesting the meeting. I should be able to make it back in time for tea though, if we can meet in the dining hall instead of up here. Afterwards Dís wants to talk to me."

"Dís …" the hobbit pondered, sipping his tea. Then he shook his head, shaking away a random thought and recited his own schedule. "Tea in the dining hall shouldn't be a problem. I have a meeting with the Master Tailor. He wants to expand his repertoire."

"Expand by what?" Thorin inquired. Though his interest in fashion did not extend past the comfort and sturdiness of his clothes, he knew Bilbo to be interested in the subject.

His hobbit couldn't help but grin. "Maternity fashion. Our pregnant ladies will soon start to show."

The joy on his husband's face was blinding, so Bilbo continued. "I might talk to the leatherworkers as well. One of our mothers-to-be is part of the guard. Protective armour should be taken into consideration."

"Wouldn't it be better, safer for her and the baby I mean, if she stopped working altogether?" Thorin wondered.

Thinking about pregnant hobbit-lasses for a heartbeat, Bilbo shrugged. "Sure, let's keep them confined to their homes or even better the infirmary. Do you want to tell them or should your father do the honour?"

Recalling his sister's behaviour during her pregnancies, Thorin yielded, "Maybe not …"

Chuckling, the hobbit rose and kissed his husband lovingly. "Wise decision, my love. I'm aware how precious dwarflings are to your people, but it's always best to let nature take its course. I talk to them once a week. Don't worry, I keep an eye out for any trouble. If they really need rest, I will make them see reason. Nobody is more protective of a baby than its own mother."

Rubbing his face against his husband's soft tummy, Thorin smiled when Bilbo snickered. "Alright."

~ ♥ ~

Training went better than expected, since the spouses were not dead on their feet this morning. Dwalin and Nori shared a content look before sending their charges on their way.

The Master Tailor promised to take Bilbo's suggestions regarding his new clothing line into consideration. For the last decades, the women of their race had had to take care of themselves, since, while travelling through Middle Earth, neither tailors nor coin had been available in abundance. But since Ered Luin was in uplift, the lady-dwarves might be interested in fashion once again. Bilbo could already hear the hammer and anvil in the dwarf's head working, the delight shining brightly in the dwarf's eyes. This year's pregnant women would be the most beautiful this kingdom had seen in many years.

Talking to the leatherworkers took more time than anticipated. They were looking forward to be included in the fashion line. Who had ever heard of dungarees for pregnant women? Hobbits obviously, since dresses were quite unpractical for fieldwork. A particularly motivated young dwarf was already sketching a design for aforementioned trousers, which would support the women's growing bellies perfectly. Laces at the side, thick leather at the front, carefully shaped to support the belly. The hobbit left him to it, glad to have so many dwarves find joy in their pregnant lady-dwarves.

Bilbo made it to the dining hall just in time for tea. He was starving already, since he had barely had time for lunch a few hours earlier. A sandwich snatched from Dori's teashop had been all he had managed. Bombur of course was delighted to feed him a sponge cake and cucumber sandwiches he had finally managed to establish as a regular part of the menu. He beamed proudly when Bilbo complimented the dill mayonnaise that accompanied it.

Balin, returning a tea-set, gave the hobbit the chance to request a meeting in the library the following afternoon. Though the councillor seemed surprised at the request, he promised to make time for Bilbo.

~ ♥ ~

"There has to be more on the subject of marriage contracts!" Bilbo grumbled crossly after he had read over the few scrolls available to him on that subject.

Trying to appease the royal consort, Master Regin hurried to confirm, "Of course there is, Your Royal Highness. But I'm afraid it's in Khuzdul."

The hobbit had to bite his tongue not to snap at the Master of Scribes. He might need years if he had to find a way to explain himself every step of the way. Especially if he couldn't reveal his ability to read the dwarven language. Ori saved him by suggesting shyly, "Maybe I could offer my help?"

"Did you finish your translation already?" Master Regin asked somewhat surprised. "Though I am sure His Royal Highness appreciates the offer, he certainly wouldn't want you to neglect your education, Ori."

Bowing respectfully, the young dwarf informed his master, "I put in on your desk already, Master Regin. So, with your permission, I would like to offer my assistance to Master Baggins."

"Alright," the older dwarf relented. "But keep prince Thorin's instructions in mind." He added quietly in Khuzdul, looking at his apprentice imploringly, before turning away.

 "Of course," Ori bowed once again, before guiding Bilbo towards the part of the library where the marriage contracts were stored.

"Instructions like keeping me in the dark about my right to choose the place of our residency? Or me becoming the legal guardian of Fíli and Kíli should anything happen to the other Durins?" The hobbit snapped, recalling how long he had been kept in the dark about these stipulations. "Of course he couldn't mean me deciding upon our heir, since it would be quite unreasonable to leave me in the dark about that particular paragraph."

With a sigh, Ori inquired, "Balin?"

"Nori in fact."

"At least there are few occasions, when my brother sticking his nose in other people's business helps us. Or in your case, shares his knowledge with the right person."

"Balin knew as well?"

The young dwarf seemed to feel the need to defend the First Councillor against Bilbo's obvious displeasure. "Well, he was the one who drafted your contract. It sat very ill with him, that you were not to be informed of everything it contained."

Chuckling to himself, Bilbo replied, "He will realize soon enough how much I know these days. I requested a meeting with him tomorrow afternoon. But first I have to do some research. Are you sure that I won't keep you from your studies? You know that I would be fine here on my own."

Uncharacteristically sassy, Ori rolled his eyes. "Please, the translation Master Regin had me doing was beyond easy. I was finished by noon, but I wanted time to educate myself."

Smiling the hobbit demanded to know, "What did he have you translate?"

"A volume of the books the elves of the Grey Havens allowed us to keep: 'A Guide to Herbology'."

"Isn't that written in Sindarin?"

"It is," the young scribe confirmed, pulling papers and scrolls from the shelves. "What part of your marriage contract do you want to revise, the choice of residency?"

"The right of succession!" Bilbo replied, accepting the papers Ori was handing over. "Are you trying to tell me that your master has you translating an elvish book into Khuzdul?"

"Yes, he is. Inheritance law is at the back. Do you want to look into adoption as well?"

"Ori," The hobbit pulled at his young friend's sleeve. "That was the first book you read in the Shire. It was the one where you recognized that the Westron and Sindarin parts were written by the same person."

"I remember." The young dwarf grinned," I have a very good memory when it comes to the written word. That’s why I know that I did it correctly. Whenever I doubt my translation, I only have to recall your copy."

Laughing under his breath, Bilbo shook his head. "That’s cheating, my friend."

Grinning the scribe contradicted, "No, that’s a sensible use of one's resources."

"I'm a resource?"

"Your books are."

Unable to dispute that, Bilbo lit a few more candles and then turned his attention towards the papers Ori had spread out on the desk. "Where should we start?"

"That depends on what you want to know."

Gathering his thoughts, Bilbo chose a chair and stared at the dwarvish texts. "Your brother once told me that it is my right to choose Thorin's and my heir. Not to the throne, but for our marriage, for everything we acquire together, like the smial for example."

"So …" Ori gazed at the volumes of law on the table, and in the shelves around them. "How about we start with your marriage contract and go from there?"

"You have a copy of my marriage contract? I thought it is meant to be stored with the First Councillor, like all other documents concerning the royal family."

"Of course we do. This is the library of Ered Luin after all. We have copies of everything."

~ ♥ ~

The next day, Bilbo slammed the thick volume shut and tugged his hair in frustration. If he had to read just one more sentence starting with 'By way of derogation from the provisions laid down in the previous article …' he would start screaming and not in a nice way. He had skipped training this morning, had bowed out of the council meeting, where the merchants had complained about the unfairness of the new bookkeeping system, or so his husband had told him over lunch, to gain more time for his research. Now he was working his way through paragraph after paragraph, none of which came without an exception. Who even wrote in such an intricate and complicated way? Laws should be easy and understandable for everybody! Yet instead of discovering how far his competence went, all he had learned was that there was no law in the dwarven kingdom that didn't have an exception.

Oh, Bilbo saw the smile Balin was trying to hide. Surely as First Councillor he had spent his fair share of hours buried in these tomes. But right now, all Bilbo wanted was a simple answer to a simple question. That shouldn't be that hard. Snappishly he asked, "Is there a single law in your society that does not have a list of exceptions a mile long?"

"Of course there is," the white-haired dwarf replied. "Our king's verdict is absolute. What he decides goes."

"Great!" Bilbo tugged on his locks once again. "That is decidedly not helpful!"

Balin, allowed himself to step closer and put a comforting hand on their hobbit's shoulder. "Why don't you tell me what you want to do, and I will find a way for you to achieve it? In agreement with our laws of course."

When Bilbo shared his intentions, the white-haired dwarf looked at him in muted shock before gratitude softened his face. With trembling arms, he pulled the royal consort into a fierce hug and whispered, "Thank you. If you can actually accomplish that, I will be in your debt forever."

Smiling at his elderly friend, Bilbo pulled back and touched their foreheads. "Help me through this gibberish and I will do everything in my power to be successful. I promise!"

Taking a calming breath, Balin reminded their hobbit, "You are a member of another race now. We are not hobbits where the laws are absolute and every dispute is judged accordingly."

"What makes you think that?" Bilbo wondered.

"You wouldn't be surprised about the numerous allowances of our laws otherwise."

Setting aside another volume, as it had turned out unhelpful, Bilbo shook his head. "Of course we have laws that go for everybody. But whenever there is a dispute between two or more parties, the thain decides how to resolve it. A conflict between me and my left-side neighbour about the fruits falling into my garden might be judged differently than with the neighbour on my right."

"You don't have a neighbour on your right."

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo brushed away that argument. "That's not the point. The same rules apply differently to different people and situations."

Shaking his head, Balin admitted, "Then I don't understand how our law books are any different from yours."

"Because," the hobbit lifted a finger to emphasize his point, "we don't carve every exception in stone like you lot seem to be so fond of. The law always stays the same. Judgement is noted separately for each case and that’s it."

"Interesting," the First Councillor pondered. "But impossible for us. The law has to be the same for everybody. One just needs to find the right paragraph."

Smiling Bilbo looked up, "So you will help me to find the one for me?"

"With pleasure, my friend, though it might take a while."

"They waited for nearly a century. I am sure they can be patient now. Especially because I have not shared my intentions."

Surprised the oldest son of Fundin looked at their hobbit. "May I ask why not?"

Fidgeting with the golden clasps at the end of his braids, Bilbo admitted. "Because I am not convinced that I will succeed. And I don't want them to get their hopes up only to be disappointed in the end."

With a soothing gesture, Balin promised. "I will help you to build up a case so airtight that not even our king will be able to dispute it."

"Good," Bilbo nodded. "Because he is the one I will have to present it to."

~ ♥ ~

Since there was no precedent to what Bilbo had in mind, he and Balin could get a little inventive in their arguments. Once Ori learned about Bilbo's intentions, he asked his master for a few days off to help. Bilbo, in turn, insisted for Ori to come to the Mountaintop in the evenings. If the young scribe decided to neglect his education on his behalf, the least he could do was improve his Sindarin by holding intense study sessions between dinner and supper.

For the first two days, Thorin had prepared supper, but since his dwarf had the disturbing tendency to choose dishes mostly containing meat, neglecting vegetables and salad, Bilbo and Ori decided that oral exercises were important as well. So they made light conversation, the young dwarf attentively taking notes, while the hobbit was cooking.

After five days of Ori joining them for supper, Thorin's curiosity finally got the better of him. "Alright, I give up, what are you two up to? There has to be a reason for you to practise Sindarin every evening?"

"Because Ori is helping me with a project during the day and can't make time for it."

"That's not what I was asking and you know it, Bilbo."

Serving seedcake with whipped cream, the hobbit adopted an entirely innocent expression. "Well, to answer your question, I would like to know in advance how you would feel about more of our scribes learning the language of the High Elves."

"I would be …" Thorin thought about his answer. Two years ago he would have been appalled, but now. "… surprised, I think. We had one or two diplomats in Erebor who spoke the language of the elves, but they perished. Maybe it's time we improved our relations with our southern neighbours." The Blue Mountains had become a true home for their people where they prospered. Entertaining good relationships with the surrounding races could only be an advantage. "But tell me, Ori, did you draw the shorter straw that you have to put up with this?"

"Not at all, my Lord," Ori replied surprised. "Bilbo's books were a source of never ending fascination, even in Bag End. It was not that hard to convince Master Regin to allow me to continue these studies. Especially after the royal consort taking the elves from the Grey Havens down a notch, during their last visit, simply because he spoke their language."

Recalling that particular memory quite fondly, Thorin couldn't supress a smile. "True, that was a sight to behold. All high and mighty elves getting berated by one small hobbit."

Indignantly Bilbo tapped his husband's shoulder. "I'll have you know that I am perfectly average for a hobbit, thank you very much!"

"Of course you are," the prince chuckled and pulled his perfectly average sized hobbit into his lap, nuzzling his neck."

"Thorin!" Bilbo squeaked, pulling in his head like a turtle. "Stop that, you are making our guest uncomfortable!"

Letting go, the dwarven prince tilted his head towards the younger dwarf. "That was not my intention, I'm sorry, Ori."

The shade of red on Ori's cheeks only seemed to deepen at that. "Oh, don't mind me, Your Royal Highness."

In a gentle tone, Thorin reminded him, ""You've seen me covered in suds, ashes and dirt. Don't you think that it's time for you to call me Thorin?"

With big eyes the young scribe stammered, "But you're a member of the Durin family. I could never …"

"So is Bilbo."

Blushing even more, Ori relented, hiding his flaming cheeks by lowering his face. "Alright, Master Thorin. It would be an honour."

 

When Bilbo saw the young dwarf out, Ori pondered, "You don't want him to know, that's why you distracted him with the Sindarin lessons."

"That's correct," the hobbit admitted.

"Why?"

"For the same reason I don't want to tell the others. There is no use for them to get their hopes up, in case I fail."

"Bilbo?"

"Yes, Ori?"

With a confident smile, the young dwarf touched their foreheads. "You will not fail. Balin and I won't let you."

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Since when do you feel the need to request an audience when you want to speak to me, Bilbo?"  
> "Since I am here on business, my king. I want to do this by the book. Hence my official request."


	26. Heirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No one likes a bragging winner."  
> Grinning at the king's grumpy tone, Bilbo walked over the marketplace with a spring in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!!! Enjoy :)

"Since when do you feel the need to request an audience when you want to speak to me, Bilbo?"

"Since I am here on business, my king. I want to do this by the book. Hence my official request."

With an amused smile, Thráin opened the door to his parlour, inviting the hobbit in. He couldn't supress a chuckle when he noticed the copies of laws that Bilbo spread over the table. For nearly an hour the hobbit explained rules and regulations, stated the law, until Thráin had finally had enough. As king he was familiar with their principles, had to be, since he had to judge his subjects according to these. So he interrupted the hobbit when he drew a deep breath. "Bilbo, I know all that. And though I am impressed with the amount of time you undoubtedly have invested in this, I would really like you to state your point."

Closing his eyes, Bilbo took a breath to calm himself. Now came the hardest part and if he wasn't able to keep his head, if Thráin proved stubborn, all their effort would go to waste. "My wedding contract states that I may choose Thorin's and my heir. Not the dwarf inheriting the throne, but the one who gets our smial and all our belongings as well as my seat on the council."

Since he had approved and signed that contract, Thráin nodded. "That's right. Thorin was particularly insistent on a few stipulations that mostly concerned your relationship. But that does not explain where you are going with all this."

"I don't want to choose the child but the parents. I want Thorin and me to be a part of our heir's life right from the beginning. The child would remain with his or her parents, with Thorin and me acting as godparents from the moment of birth."

"I take it you have a particular couple in mind."

"I do."

Thráin's expression grew thunderous when the hobbit revealed his intentions. "No!"

Not allowing the king's angry tone to discourage him – Bilbo had seen his husband like this too many times for him to be affected any longer – the hobbit offered a tiny smile and replied, "Yes."

He had built a strong case. Now it was time to defend it.

~ ♥ ~

"You called for me, my king." Bowing respectfully, Dwalin entered the king's parlour. When he noticed Bilbo and Dís on the sofa, he already had an inkling of what this was about. Thorin's and his training had grown increasingly taxing over the last few weeks, and though his friend had become considerably better, a particular hard hit today had sprained his left wrist. Though they had visited Oin and the elderly dwarf had confirmed that with a tight enough bandage, nothing would stand in the way of them continuing their training, Dwalin should have expected some kind of intervention. Since he was ready to defend his training methods against an overprotective hobbit, the warrior stood his ground calmly, waiting for any member of the royal family to speak up.

He was thunderstruck however, when the king informed him. "From this day on, you are no longer my son's personal guard."

No. No! Everything but this!

"You will be given another charge and I expect you to protect her with your life!"

Her? Following his king's gaze, he met Dís's eyes. His beloved seemed equally confused.

"Ever since the Shire, both of you have made it clear that you are invested in each other. So I take it that you will have no problems to protect my daughter."

This was … like a dream come true. He could stay close to Dís, protect her like he had always wanted. But then reality caught up with the bald warrior. "What about Thorin? Will Gloin take my place?" The burly dwarf was a strong warrior. It would be alright if he had their prince's back … probably.

With an impatient gesture, Thráin brushed the question away. "Thorin will no longer be your concern. Gloin requested to join the guards on the wall. Apparently his wife and son take up more and more of his time. My son will … we'll find someone else. It doesn't matter."

He couldn't. Dwalin closed his eyes and swallowed around his constricting throat. This was his chance, maybe his only chance to be with the woman he loved. But he had failed his prince once. He could never abandon him again. Looking up, he gazed at Dís. His voice broke when he whispered. "I'm sorry, ghivasha. I really am. You know I love you more than life, but I can't."

Taking a deep breath to keep her composure, Dís forced a smile and assured him. "I know, âzyungâl. I understand."

Bowing respectfully, Dwalin decided. "I am sorry, my king, but I have to decline. I failed your son before and not even dying for him will make up for that. So I sure as hell won't abandon him!"

Bristling, the king rose from his seat. "How dare you oppose my verdict, son of Fundin?"

Stoically, Dwalin held his ground. "With all due respect, my Lord. I am the sworn guard of your son. I promised to protect his life with mine and short of him or me dying, there is no way for you to release me from this vow."

Angrily, the king concluded. "If that's your decision, you will not see my daughter again. I can't afford divided loyalties when it comes to the lives of my children!"

"Father!" Dís hissed. "If you do this, I will never forgive you!"

Surprisingly it was Bilbo's small hand that kept her in her seat. "Dís, sister, please, let this be Dwalin's decision."

When the lady-dwarf settled unwillingly, the king addressed the son of Fundin again. "So decide, Thorin or Dís, you can't have both."

Eradicating every last trace of hope in his heart to ever be with the woman he loved, Dwalin decided, "Thorin."

When he turned towards the door, Bilbo's soft voice held him back. "Wait, please, there is something I want to ask you."

Why could their hobbit not leave him be so he could suffer alone? Dwalin was aware that the royal consort did not always agree with his training methods. But until now he never had been cruel.

Still, in these rooms Bilbo was a member of the royal family and therefore to be obeyed. So Dwalin chose a place – why had the spot next to Dís to be the only free one available? – and schooled his features. "How may I serve you, Your Highness?"

Bilbo absolutely did not flinch when addressed that way. When he looked at Thráin, unsure of how to begin, the king merely relaxed against the cushions of his favourite chair and raised an eyebrow at him. Great, so he would be on his own. Well, at least Thráin had relented to Bilbo's demands. Now all the hobbit had to do was to convince the dwarves in question.

 

"Alright," he sighed, straightening in his chair. "First of all, let me say how very sorry I am for what you had to go through just now. But I had to find a way to convince our king that you, Dwalin, love both of his children equally. And that there won't ever be a conflict of interest between your duties and your private life."

Dwalin seemed half irritated and half confused, but it was Dís who voiced both of their concerns. "What's this really about?"

"Dís, Dwalin, according to my husband, the two of you have had feelings for each other for a very long time."

"Yes," the warrior admitted. "But I don't see how that is any of your concern in this situation."

Raising his hands to placate his friend, Bilbo requested, "Bear with me please. I will explain in a moment." At Dís inviting gesture, the hobbit continued. "I know that our king worries, because his daughter is in a relationship with a simple guard. I know Dwalin is a descendant of Durin, and personal guard to our future king, but still. Thráin is concerned how our people might take another unconventional couple since there was enough of an uproar at Thorin marrying me."

"I never begrudged you your happiness, Bilbo." Dwalin grumbled. "None of us did. After everything you went through on our behalf, and everything you gave up for us, you deserve every good thing that is coming your way. I just can't understand why you could not leave Dís and me be. We tried to keep a low profile, as per our king's order."

"And what a marvellous job you did on New Year's Eve," the king sneered. "You two are neither subtle, nor are you keeping a low profile.

Dispassionately, Dís demanded to know, "So this is a punishment, because we made our love too public for your liking?"

"No, Dís," Bilbo answered in Thráin's place. "This is about a request I have for both of you."

"What request?" Subtly, Dwalin slipped forward in his seat, shielding Dís. A gesture that was not lost to their king.

For a heartbeat, Bilbo looked at Thráin. With a relenting sigh, the dwarven king gestured for him to continue.

Nodding to himself, Bilbo stated. "In accordance with my marriage contract, I would like to ask the two of you to become the parents of mine and Thorin's heir."

Speechless the pair looked at the hobbit, until Thráin leaned over and stage-whispered, "I think you broke them."

"I'm …" Dwalin started.

"We are …" Dís continued, but was obviously at loss of what to say as well. After a few moments she managed to gather herself. "Are you telling me that you and Thorin want Dwalin's and my bastard child to be your successor?!"

Before Bilbo could reply, Thráin spoke up, "No grandchild of mine will be born out of wedlock!"

"But that would mean …" Dwalin choked.

"It means," Bilbo told them, "That should you agree, Dís might offer her hand, and should you accept, Dwalin, Thráin promised me that he would give you his blessing."

Tears welling up in her eyes, Dís looked from Bilbo to her father and back again. "Why now?"

Smiling at his sister-in-law, the hobbit replied, "Because not being able to marry the one you love is terribly unfair."

"Being a princess is not about being treated fairly."

Taking her hand, Bilbo whispered. "It is, when you are related to me."

Dís had no response to that so she simply squeezed his hand. Hugging her briefly, the hobbit pulled back so she could collect herself.

After a few moments, Thráin nudged him. "Come on, Bilbo, I owe you a pot of tea and a loaf of cake."

Chuckling, the hobbit rose and followed their king. Dwalin's rough voice made him linger at the door for a heartbeat. "Bilbo?"

"Yes, Dwalin?"

"I … we … thank you."

"It was my pleasure, my friend."

~ ♥ ~

"No one likes a bragging winner."

Grinning at the king's grumpy tone, Bilbo walked over the marketplace with a spring in his step. When they settled into a corner of Dori's teashop, Bilbo decided, "I think I will throw them an engagement-party tonight."

Serving a new herbal blend – their hobbit was always an eager test subject, and their king wouldn't mind, since he treated all tea with the same long-suffering endurance – Dori asked, "Whom?"

"Dís and Dwalin." The hobbit reached out to steady the tray that slacked in the silver-haired dwarf's grip.

"You know that this is not to be made public knowledge, Bilbo!" Thráin berated him, but the hobbit only shrugged.

"First of all, Dori is your Majordomo, so he would find out sooner or later anyway. He and Master Kiron will most likely organize the wedding, no matter how small. Second, give it until lunch and every last one of our friends will know."

Frustrated, Thráin sighed. "My daughter and her chosen really were less than subtle."

With a soft smile, Dori recalled, "My Lord, your daughter and her future husband are very much in love and everyone who spends an hour, let alone an entire summer in their presence, knows that."

"Knows what?"

Having spotted Bilbo through the window, Fíli and Kíli had entered the teashop and the conversation.

"The feelings the soon-to-be consort of your mother has for Dís."

Thráin could see understanding dawn in his grandsons' faces. What he was not prepared for, was the overwhelming delight that followed. How had everybody but him known how serious his daughter was about Dwalin? Taken by surprise, Thráin found himself with his arms full of young dwarves, who hugged him tight, before dashing out again.

He tried to hide the joy that spread through him when seeing his grandsons like that, by asking, "Are there any other couples I ought to know about, or is this it? Weddings are tedious business, you know. They mess up my entire schedule."

"Apologies, my king." Bilbo grinned. How had he ever been hesitant around Thráin? He was a mirror image of his son. But where Thorin had Bilbo to ease his burden, their king stood at the top alone, with nobody to set him right if he got lost in an unsensible conviction. Maybe his children should keep a closer eye on their father. In the end, all Thráin wanted was to keep them safe and happy. "I will try to give you a fair warning, next time."

Sinking back into his chair, the king took a sip, before setting his teacup down with a grimace. "Much appreciated, Master Baggins."

~ ♥ ~

The moment Bilbo and Thráin left the room, Dwalin sunk onto his knees before Dís. Reaching for her trembling hands he kissed them before caressing her face. His beloved princess seemed to be in shock, so he probed gently, "Ghivasha, are you with me?"

"I …" Dís stammered. "Yes … no … that is not what Thorin intended when including this stipulation into their wedding contract. How …?"

Hugging her tight, caressing her hair, Dwalin mumbled, "You are right. That was a quite dwarvish thing to do, especially for a hobbit. Twisting a stipulation until it fit his needs … Bilbo is a fast learner."

"But father, …" she choked, clawing at her beloved's back to get him close. This was more, so much more than she could ever have imagined. And she was terribly afraid that she would wake up any moment, proving that this wonderful development was nothing but a dream. "How did he get father to agree?"

"Does it matter?" Pulling back a little until he could see her face, noticing the tears shimmering in her eyes, the warrior inquired hesitantly, "Is this not what you wanted? You don't have to agree to his proposition, you know."

His insides turned to ice when his princess looked upon him as if searching for something. Maybe for a way to let him down easily? He was not of royal blood like her, his line four generations removed from Náin II. Maybe all Dís had ever wanted was a lover, not a husband. Her soft hand caressing his cheek made him realize that he had squeezed his eyes shut against such an unpleasant notion.

As if sensing the direction his mind had wandered, Dís shook her head, smiling, even though her cheeks were starting to get wet from the tears that escaped. "Stop it, Dwalin. Whatever you are thinking, stop right there. I am just … never, not in all the ages have I ever thought it possible to grow old with the man I love. You have to be a little patient with me to wrap my head around such an idea."

"What idea?" Dwalin demanded to know.

"The idea of being able to say: Dwalin, son of Fundin, I offer you my hand in marriage. Do you accept?"

Now tears of joy were welling up in his eyes as well, when he replied. "Yes, a hundred times yes, in this life and all that follow." Then he passionately kissed the woman who had become his sun, moon and stars from the moment he had laid eyes on her for the first time.

Soon she would be his and he had to thank a courageous little hobbit who had proven to be invested not only in their peoples' wellbeing, but in their happiness. Thank Mahal for two stubborn people who had had so little faith in their neighbours that they had demanded a marriage between a most unlikely couple. Nobody could have ever imagined the joy that would come of it.

~ ♥ ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I have not so good news for you. Since I can't concentrate on this story at the moment, I'm putting it on hiatus. I have no intention whatsoever to abandon it, but I can't give it the attention it deserves at the moment. So please be patient and stay with me. Bilbo and Thorin and Dís and Dwalin and all the others will get their happy ending. They just need a little while.
> 
> Hugs and lots of love for all of you  
> Anchanee


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